While You Were Gone
by Stoned Rose
Summary: HanLeia AU . I've been mulling over this and I just can't write summaries. Just take a peek, see if you like it. It's gonna be a pretty long postESB fic.
1. Default Chapter

*****

Okay, this fic takes place right after the end of ESB. It's completely NON-CANON, so EU addicts be prepared. Although it's AU (in other words, ROTJ as we know it did not happen) certain things were kept the same: Luke and Leia are still twins. And the Empire *was* defeated pretty much on the same timeline. 

Okay, *deep breath* well here goes nothing. I hope you like it. If you don't well....then oops, sorry. Feedback is welcomed, in fact, I encourage it. Even if it means "You suck!" I'm a big girl, I can take it. But try to be a little more constructive than that.....all right, I'm done babbling: (oh and p.s.-for those of you who believe the rumors that I created 'star wars' and it's characters, I'm here to set you straight. They belong to George and Lucas films) 

******

Leia absently brushed aside a strand of hair. Her mind was elsewhere. It was far removed from the buzzing of the hangar, removed from the hand of Lando Calrissian resting lightly on her arm, and certainly light years away from the grieving wookiee pacing in the background. 

It was with Han.Wherever he was. And now Lando was trying to tell her that they may never know. Leia's heart clenched at the thought of her love being forever stuck in suspension. His face fixed permanently in twisted agony.

Lost. That's what they said. Han was *lost*. And they may never find him.

Chewie let out a mournful howl in the background. Lando gave Leia's arm a comforting squeeze. His voice, faint in the background of her mind, started to grow louder as the princess regained some of her focus. "...Fett's ship is believed to have been destroyed...." Lando explained gently; Boba Fett had never even made it to Jabba the Hutt. Which meant that Han was probably still aboard the Slave I when it was allegedly shot down.

Leia looked up at Lando. The teary shine of her brown eyes betraying the steadiness of her voice. "Han...but you said 'lost'......now you're saying he's...." Her voice faltered and Leia quickly looked away as she felt tears well up. "Maybe you're wrong. Maybe his ship is still out there somewhere. Or maybe Fett took him someplace else first."

"I-...It's unlikely."

"But it's _possible_." Leia once again met the gambler's eye, her resolve suddenly strengthening. "You said so yourself. You said Han was 'probably' aboard. That's not definite."

Lando held up his hands defensively, "I know. And we _will_ keep looking. I don't want you to doubt that." 

"Good."

"But-" Lando took a deep breath, "I just wanted to prepare you for the possibility-the very strong possibility that Han-" the gambler couldn't hold the princess' gaze and his eyes stranded to his neatly polished shoes, "that he may be gone. Forever."

Leia could feel her chin begin to tremble as those words sank into her consciousness. Lando tried to draw her into a comforting embrace but Leia hastily pulled away. "I refuse to believe that," she snapped. "Han's alive."

"Princess-"

"He's alive. And I won't give up on him so easily." She gave him a pointed look. "Even if you will." With that Leia turned abruptly away from Calrissian and walked with steely determination towards the exit.

"Princess," Lando called mournfully behind her, "I'm sorry."

//I'm sorry too//. The familiar words echoed in her head. Leia hastened her retreat to the door before she broke down in the middle of the crowded hangar.

*********

A few months later the worst was confirmed: Boba Fett's ship had been shot down. Chewbacca was assigned with the unpleasant task of breaking the news to the princess. He even presented her with a shard of the Slave I which was one of the few pieces remaining of the ill-fated ship. He meant it as a showing of undeniable proof that the ship had indeed been destroyed. Actually, from the looks of the debris that _was_ found, annihilated would have been the better term. 

As Chewbacca had looked over the charred remnants of Fett's ship he had felt the last flame of hope die out. If his friend had been aboard there was no chance he could have survived. And the sad truth of it was that it seemed that Han had indeed been on the Slave I when it reached it's deadly end. Chewie and Lando had spoken with many of the acquaintances of the notorious bounty hunter and no one could offer evidence that Fett had stopped anywhere else before heading off to finish his business with Jabba the Hutt. No trace of the hunter having possibly landed on some other moon before making his final fateful trip. The fact that the remains of Fett's ship were found half buried in the sands of Tatooine seemed further proof of this. 

Chewie let out a soft pained growl as he looked down at the stunned princess. Leia's gaze was vacant. Her body felt numb. Her thumb was absently rubbing the cool shard of the spaceship in her hands as her mind continued to travel backwards. She had a flash of his cocky crooked smile. The feel of her small cool hands inside his large warm strong ones. //Gone.// His lips on hers. //He's gone. He's really gone.// Their last night on Cloud City.....

Leia looked down as she felt a sharp pain course through her hand. She looked at the blood on her palm, her brain too foggy to register it's very existence. She had accidentally cut her hand on the ragged edge of the debris. Leia looked up at Chewie her eyes conveying her confusion. She couldn't understand anything anymore.

//Han's gone.//

Her eyes filled with tears, and being unable to choke back her sobs any longer, Leia buried her head in Chewie's fur and began to cry.

*to be continued....*


	2. Chapter Two

While You Were Gone--Chapter Two

---Seven Standard Years Later---

The cold biting winds of the Tatooine desert were relentless in their furious trek across the desolate landscape. The expansive sky was dark and foreboding, and Mandell Malcolm tightened the wrap around his head as if to further protect himself from the storm. He raised a hand to shield his eyes as he peered across the dunes. In the distance he could make out the dark outline of his partner, Xavier Ross. Beyond him there was nothing but the continuing vast grayness of the sky. 

Malcolm gave the younger man an encouraging wave, even as dark doubt began to cloud his being. The two men had been combing the desert for several weeks now in search of imperial artifacts or anything else that might be of value on the open market. So far they had had poorer luck than they had anticipated. Aside from the charred remains of an old ship a few miles back, their detectors have been unable to pick up anything else of real value. Not that the wrecked ship was a complete waste. Malcolm was sure they could get at least a few good credits from the scant pieces of scrap metal they were able to salvage from deep beneath the sand.

But it wasn't enough.

These were tough days for the desert planet. Although the Empire had been destroyed almost seven years previously, the prosperity of the rest of the systems had yet reached this dark corner of the galaxy. Poverty ran rampant across the land. Even in the once thriving cities like Mos Eisley, one could find homeless families of several species on every street. Beggars flocked to the off world spacers in wide eyed desperation, trying to sell them useless cheap knick knacks of every size. //May I show you around sir? Perhaps sing you a song?// Anything for a credit. Anything for a meal.

It hadn't always been this bad. Tatooine never thrived, but it was never this low either. Malcolm estimated that the planet took a turn for the worse around ten years ago. When a sect of the Empire landed down at the spaceport in search of two droids and never left. It was as if that garrison of stormtroopers had been able to walk through the cities and small outpost towns and single handedly sap them of all their vitality and remaining wealth. For every time the troops had tightened their grip of control on the modest planet, the defeated natives had lost a little more life.

It was this extreme poverty that had now forced the two men to scope the desert in search of any remains. When the Imperial troopers were pushed off the planet six years ago, leaving absolute devastation in their wake, the peoples of the planet wasted no time in destroying all reminders of the once-present empire. Everything was burned. Huge celebratory bon fires were held. Joyous aliens of every species would gleefully toss in tarnished trooper helmets, or used imperial packs. But of course they couldn't get rid of the greatest evidence of all: the utter impoverishment of an entire planet.

It was these artifacts of the empire that were *not* destroyed, that Malcolm and Ross were now looking for. Old stormtrooper gear could now be worth a lot. There were certain collectors who would now offer up thousands of credits for anything that was bona-fide imperial. It in a way made Malcolm's stomach turn in disgust, but he was never one to turn away from what could be a genuine gold mine of opportunity. 

In the distance, Xavier continued to comb the area with his sensor. He too was feeling discouraged. He was about to turn back around towards Malcolm when his sensor lit up and let off an insistent beep. The young man squinted in disbelief as he began to make out a small opening in the rocky ravine up ahead. As he pushed his way towards it, his body fighting the stinging wind of the desert, the loud beeping became more urgent. Xavier's heart began to pound in excitement. It looked like a dwelling of some sort. This could be big. But he wanted to be sure. He needed to be positive he had stumbled upon something of value before he alerted Malcolm. It was not worth getting his hopes up if it was going to be for nothing. With one final wave to the older man behind him, Xavier pushed onward into the black cave.

Malcolm squinted in confusion as his young partner disappeared from view. //What in the worlds was that kid doing?// The older man swallowed a groan of frustration. The fierce winds of the sandstorm were not letting up and it was beginning to take a toll on his blistering skin and his plunging morale. Malcolm was about to reach for his comlink and demand the young man to come back when the comm squawked to life on its own.

"...Sir, do..copy?"

Malcolm pressed the link to his mouth, "Yeah kid, I'm here. What's going on?"

"...something. Big. Come..quick."

The torrent winds were causing major interference and Malcolm struggled to make out the words of his partner through the deafening static. "What did you find?"

"..dwelling....collection....pretty valuable. You should... over here!"

Malcolm suddenly felt his body lighten with anticipation. //The kid had actually found something! They were gonna be rich! They were gonna be rolling in it! And best of all they were going to finally get off planet!// The older man suddenly felt giddy as he took off in a sprint, his legs stubbornly stumbling through the deep sand. //Xavier did it! He did it!//

Malcolm wanted to let out a joyous whoop, and if he had still been a young man, he probably would've offered up a celebratory black flip as well. He couldn't believe his luck might actually be turning around. The mere possibility of flying off this sandtrap was enough to make him drunk with happiness.

Malcolm was almost all the way to the black opening when his com link squawked to life again. He pressed the link tightly to his ear as he tried to make out the squabbled voice of his friend. "What was that Xavier? I didn't copy."

"..gods....body....met...."

Malcolm approached the cave. "Xavier," he yelled urgently, "repeat. I didn't copy." Again, he held the comlink up against his ear, his frustration mounting as the static buzzed through the communicator.

But as Malcolm passed under the lip of the cave the garbly voice of his friend came through with sudden clarity. "Sir, I repeat, I found something." The young man's voice rang with alarm, "But I-I don't know what to make of it."

"Calm down Xavier, I'm on my way. What is it?"

"Well...." he hesitated, searching for the right words, "Uh it appears to be a human being."

Malcolm's heart dropped and his pace slowed. Someone had beat them to the loot? But how? He tried to cover his disappointment as he pressed on the comlink, "Someone's there? A man? Is he alive? What?"

"That's just it sir, I don't know."

//Huh?// Malcolm scrunched his face in confusion. "How can you not know Xavier??"

"Sir, uh, it seems that the man..." The apprentice swallowed, "well he appears to be stuck in some kind of metal."


	3. 

While You Were Gone--Chapter Three

The former princess of Alderaan sat before a desk swamped with paper work, the heal of her hand pressed firmly against her forehead as if to physically ward off the headache she knew was brewing. While working directly beneath Mon Mothma in the building of a new government was often a great honor, and a position she usually occupied with aplomb, it could also be completely overwhelming. Leia cautiously eyed the precarious stacks and piles, as if nervous that they might actually come to life and literally engulf her. She bit her lip in frustration, it honestly felt like they might sometimes.

Suddenly her intercom beeped and Leia stifled a groan as she reached for it. She didn't know if she could take any extra demands at the moment. "Yes?" She asked warily.

"Master Skywalker to see you Princess."

Leia immediately perked upon hearing this. She could use a good healthy dose of encouragement from her brother right about now. "Oh, by all means, send him in."

As the door slid open, Leia sat up straight, trying to regain some of the regal composure for which she was famous. Luke made his way across the room and Leia gave him a genuine heartfelt smile. It never ceased to strike her how distinguished her brother looked in his jedi robes. So noble. Yet serene. Leia stood up and offered him a hug.

"So," Luke whispered as they embraced, "how are you feeling?"

Leia backed away and looked up at him with a curious expression upon her face. "What do you mean?"

Luke gave her a knowing smile, "I mean how are you? I had a feeling you were a little stressed so I thought I would stop by." The jedi eyed the stacks of papers on her desk. "And from the look of things, I would say my hunch was correct."

Leia rolled her eyes at his use of the word "hunch". She was pretty sure she knew what *that* really was. "A hunch, huh?" She said as she made her way back to her desk.

"Yeeaaaah," Luke said cautiously as he slid into the chair across from her, "so what's going on?"

Leia smiled weakly at her brother. She appreciated his concern. She appreciated having *anyone's* concern these days. "Just feeling a little overworked."

Luke raised an eyebrow, "A little? I would say from your appearance you haven't gotten much sleep either."

She gave the Jedi a pointed glare, "Oh, so now on top of things I look horrible too?"

Luke stifled a chuckle. "Hey, I didn't mean it that way. But seriously, you look really tired. Are you sleeping okay?"

"Yesss mother" Leia answered in mock annoyance, although it secretly pleased her when he fussed over her. She was about to add another smart remark, but faltered as the events of last evening came back to her. "It was just, well, last night I had some trouble. But I don't normally."

"What happened last night?"

Leia shrugged and feigned a sudden interest in straightening all the piles on her desk.

Luke suddenly widened his eyes in alarm, "It's not Bailey is it? He's not sick is he?"

Leia smiled absently at the thought of her six year old son, her eyes automatically flicking over to the holocube of him sitting on her desk. She warmed with pride as she took in his appearance. In this image he was beaming crookedly up at the camera, his hazel eyes squinting in the pleasure of the moment. His expression was so endearing. So adorable. *So familiar*. It was enough to make Leia's heart ache. In the boy's right hand he clutched his favorite worn wookiee doll. A present from Chewbacca on his Name Day. "No, Bailey's fine," Leia sighed, "thank gods."

Luke's shoulders sagged with relief. "Good. So what....is it the stress? Did that keep you up?"

Leia turned back to the task of re-organizing her desk. She tried to convey a sudden lightness in mood that she did not feel. "Yeah, I guess that must've been part of it...."

"Part? Part of it? What else was it then?"

Leia let out an exasperated sigh as she looked at her brother, "Wow, you just don't give it a rest do you? Why don't you just pull out the interrogation droid while you're at it?"

"Hey," Luke said defensively, "I'm only asking because I care."

"I know," Leia admitted.

"So why don't you throw your dear old twin a crumb, and tell me what's going on."

The princess gave a casual shrug, "I just had some weird dreams, that's all."

Luke's brow furrowed in concern. "Nightmares?"

"No, not nightmares," she replied slowly. Leia rubbed her cheek absently with her hand. Her gaze was drawn inward, as if reliving last night's dreams in her head. The corners of her mouth were pulled down slightly into a sad frown as she continued, "they were just so..*vivid*. It was disturbing."

"Leia," Luke said, trying to control the excitement in his voice, "tell me what you dreamt."

"Why?" She asked absently, the softness of her voice making it obvious that her thoughts were still lost somewhere in the previous night.

"It's important."

"Why?"

"Because," Luke took in a deep breath, "because maybe what you had was not a dream at all. Maybe you had a force vision."

At the word 'force' Leia suddenly snapped back to full alertness, and her mood darkened.. "No. It wasn't a force vision," she snapped with conviction.As if to punctuate her certainty, Leia once again returned to sifting through her paperwork. She straightened the piles with a sudden newfound urgency.

"But how do you know," Luke asked gently. "Leia you have to begin to accept that you have this gift too and-"

"Luke, *trust me,*" Her gaze was unwavering as she looked him steadily in the eye. "It wasn't a force vision. It couldn't possibly have been one."

"It's not impossible. Nothing's impossible with the force," Luke took a breath and Leia could tell that meant he was about to go on another diatribe about the great wonders of the ancient religion. Eventually he would get around to Leia, and her stubborn unwillingness to explore her full potential. The princess didn't think she could sit through one of his lectures at the moment. Not today. "You see Leia," Luke said, unperturbed by his sister's lack of enthusiasm, "the force can come upon on us in the most unexpected of ways. In some of my experiences-"

"I dreamt about Han," Leia blurted before she could stop herself.

Luke looked at her wide eyed, his hands frozen in mid-motion. The utterly stunned expression on his face might have been humorous to Leia if she wasn't feeling so distraught. The room was eerily silent for a long moment. Finally Luke regained his speech, "Oh," was all he said.

Leia looked away towards the large window overlooking the city of Coruscant. The familiar tears threatening to overtake her once again. She cupped a trembling hand over her mouth. "I-I don't know why....." She sniffed quietly and continued to keep her eyes steadily on the glass in front of her, but it was doubtful that she even saw the steady traffic gliding by. "It's just that....it seemed so *real.* Like he was *there*."

Luke had made his way from his chair and now kneeled before his sister. He took her other hand into his and gave it a gentle squeeze. "Tell me."

Leia bit her quivering lower lip, her mind muddy and uncertain where to begin. She didn't know how to sort through all her thoughts and emotions. "I-..." Her voice faltered, "He was with me. And we were walking. Together. I was telling him all about Bailey and-" The princess stopped, her face contorting as she fought off a wave of sudden grief.

Luke could feel the emotional pain radiating from her body as if it were his own. He gave her hand another encouraging squeeze. "Leia," he prodded gently, "it's okay." 

Luke kept his voice steady, although he was still reeling a bit from his sister's confession. It's not that the dream was that particularly odd in itself, it was just that he had heard Leia barely even *mention* Han in several years. At least not directly. It's not that Luke had believed she had forgotten about him. Bailey was a daily reminder if anything, but it was as if she had just declared the topic too painful to dwell on and so instead she tried to ignore it completely. Leia had shut the emotional door on that chapter of her past and had declared the subject closed.

Much like the subject of her home planet of Alderaan. Or their biological father.

Leia turned back towards her brother, her lips drawn in a tight line. Her eyes hardened as she consciously tried to regain her composure. "It's not okay Luke. I shouldn't be thinking of him. He shouldn't still have this effect on me. I can't allow it."

"Leia that's silly," Luke pressed lightly, "you can't just shut down your emotions. It's all right to let yourself feel. Han is-"

"Dead," she said with finality. "And the past.I can't keep dwelling on him." "And," Luke continued, "he's the father of your child. And someone you loved. You've hardly been dwelling on him. If anything you've been deliberately suppressing your memories of him for years-"

"What do you know?" Leia snapped, her eyes fiery with indignation. "You think because I don't want to sit down with you and Chewie and exchange war stories of 'the good ol days' then I must have totally forgotten him?"

"Of course not."

"Because I think of him everyday. Every *single* day, Luke. It's unavoidable." Her gaze wavered a bit, and Leia hastily turned her head back towards the window. "Every time I look at my son I *see* him. Every time. And it seems," Leia sniffed softly before continuing, "it seems every morning I wake up and discover that Bailey has developed another one of his mannerisms literally overnight." Leia paused, her eyes closing for a moment. " So you see," her voice was now throaty with emotion, "it's not that I don't think about Han. It's that I can't *stop* thinking about him." Leia turned back to her desk and suddenly began rummaging through her top drawer. "And that's really unfair of me."

"Unfair?" Luke gave Leia a quizzical look before understanding suddenly dawned. "Oh.." he said slowly, "you mean for Simon."

"Of course it's unfair to Simon!" Leia apparently found what she was looking for, as she had paused in her frantic search. Suddenly she pulled out a handkerchief and began wiping her eyes. "What kind of wife..." she started, "what kind of wife would continuously look at her husband and silently berate him for not living up to another man? A man who's been dead almost seven years?" Leia's cheeks pinkened with shame. "I am constantly holding him up to an impossible standard. Comparing him..." She shook her head, "and it's so incredibly unfair of me. And I know it. But I do it anyway."

"Don't beat yourself up-"

But Leia continued on as if Luke hadn't even spoken, "And he's always been so nice to me. To Bailey. He's been a terrific father to Bailey-don't you think?"

"Yes."

"And he's just a good man. A nice man." //I'm a nice man.// Leia winced.

"He's a very nice man," Luke agreed, "that's why I think if you talked to him about it-"

"Noooo," Leia shook her head insistently, "this is definitely not the time for *that* conversation. Believe me."

"Oh?" Luke was curious about her tone, but he didn't press.

"No." Leia finally tossed the tissue aside as if in resignation. "He's off planet at the moment anyway. Meeting with other Alderaanean refugees."

"I'm surprised you didn't go with him."

"I have a lot to do here," Leia answered shortly. "I couldn't of possibly gone. Besides there's Bailey.."

Luke tried to give her a small reassuring smile. She knew that he could have taken the boy, or even Chewbacca would have gladly looked after him, but he dropped it. He was treading in an area that really wasn't his business unless Leia wanted to let him in on it. But he would be ready to listen, if she ever wanted to share.

Luke reached over and placed a comforting hand on her arm. "I love you, you know."

Leia smiled weakly.

//I know.//


	4. Chapter Four

While You Were Gone--Chapter Four

Malcolm and Xavier stood in the dark cavern, both looking up at the frozen man in uncertainty. Xavier had been right, the cave had been a veritable gold mine of goodies. Malcolm guessed that they were looting what was once the primary residence of a clan of Tuskan Raiders. There were the tell-tale gaffi sticks and abandoned sand masks. There were also piles upon piles of what were now considered dated Imperial weaponry and old uniforms. Xavier had also pointed out to Malcolm that in the back corner there appeared to be larger remains of the same ship they had uncovered a few days before. "Why, I bet we could practically rebuild the ship ourselves," he had exclaimed excitedly to the older man.

Malcolm smiled in satisfaction, while he wouldn't exactly go *that* far, there was certainly a great deal of worth now packed into their land speeder. He just hoped it was enough to finally get them passage off this desolate planet. They would find out soon enough, but right now the two men paused in indecision as they studied the stony apparition.

"What do you think we should do?" Xavier asked softly, as if worried that he might actually disturb the man frozen before them. "Do we leave him?"

He watched Malcolm closely, trying to gage what the older man was thinking. Personally, he was all for leaving the man right where they had found him. As they had spent the last couple of hours pillaging the abandoned dwelling it had felt as if the man's presence hovered over them. Xavier had felt watched, as if the stony eyes were staring down and casting judgement on them. And that expression. It looked so pained, so *anguished*. It gave Xavier the creeps if he was going to be perfectly honest about it.

Malcolm crossed his arms and peered up at the slab of carbonite with an inquisitive glare. His brain and his conscience were working overtime. "You checked out those life readings before?"

"Yes, sir."

"And they said he was alive?"

"Well according to them, yes-but they could be inaccurate..." Xavier swallowed, he could see where his boss's thoughts were heading. "And who knows how old that equipment is."

Malcolm sighed grudgingly. "Well....." He ran a frustrated hand across his chin, "if there's even a possibility that this poor sap is still alive, then I wouldn't feel right just leaving him."

"B-but sir, we don't even know who he is-" Xavier's mind was reeling, "he-he could be an Imp for all we know!"

Malcolm just shook his head in resignation as he looked down at the dusty floor of the cavern. His brain had been defeated by his conscience yet again. "Just wouldn't be right," he muttered softly to himself. And aside from that, there was something about that metallic face that tugged on his memory. But he couldn't figure out what it was.

"And what if this is his stuff? And he tries to demand it back from us?" Xavier seemed unrelenting in his arguing.

Malcolm chuckled softly at this and gestured up at the carbon statue, "does this guy look like he's about to demand *anything* from us? Look at him for Emperor's sake!"

"I know," Xavier answered softly, his shoulders sagging with defeat, "but I...."

"But nothing," Malcolm returned sharply, "now let's load him up. We're taking him with us and that's the end of it."

********

Leia felt emotionally drained by the time she finally entered her apartment that evening. The day had been a trying one to say the least, and she was relieved to be home again. As the front door slid closed behind her, Leia could make out the giggles of her young son coming from the back room. The laughter abruptly stopped at the sound of the door clicking shut, and Leia smiled as she heard the sounds of padded feet bounding towards her. "Momma!" Bailey shouted gleefully, his arms outstretched for a hug. "You're home!"

Leia let out a small "oof!" as the child leapt into her arms. "Whoa," she gasped good naturedly, "you're getting to be a big boy. I can barely hold you!"

Bailey beamed proudly, "I *am* a big boy you mean."

"Of course, I mean you *are,*" Leia amended as she slid her son back to the floor.

"Guess what," Bailey said cheerfully, his broad smile revealing the gaps from missing baby teeth, "Uncle Chewie's back! And he got me this!" The boy thrusted a small model spaceship in Leia's face.

"Oooh, neat." Leia looked up to see Chewbacca appear around the corner. He gave her what could only be the wookiee version of a sheepish smile. He knew Leia hated it when he spoiled the boy. But Leia just smiled at him broadly and walked over to give him a hug.

"When did you get back on planet?" She asked, giving Chewie a tight squeeze.

< Just this afternoon.>

"Did you have a nice visit on Kashyyyk?"

< Yes, it was nice seeing the family.>

Leia gave the wookiee a knowing look. "You could have stayed longer you know."

< Princess,> Chewie said, his tone serious, < I had a nice time, but you know my place is here.>

Leia just gave him a small smile of understanding. They had had this conversation a thousand times before. So she just patted his arm lightly and headed towards the kitchen. "Are you hungry? Where's Threepio?"

And that was that. There was nothing else she could say to the wookiee really. Leia had maintained to Chewbacca that he could do as he pleased until she was blue in the face, but the wookiee was insistent. Han's last request was for him to take care of her, so that was exactly what he was going to do.

And he did. Especially in the weeks following the horrifying news. Chewbacca had stayed with the princess around the clock, attending to her every need and trying to help ease her pain in any way he could. The wookiee held her when she cried and tried to make her laugh when she felt depressed. And Leia appreciated his company. For if there was anyone who could understand her overwhelming grief it would be Han's best friend.

But as the weeks passed, Leia began to feel guilty for monopolizing his time. She tried demanding that he go home to his family. That she would be fine. But the wookiee wouldn't hear of it. He had a promise to honor and he would never break it. When Leia finally confessed that she was pregnant, it just served to further cement his resolve. Turning his back on Leia was hard enough for Chewbacca to imagine, but abandoning her and Han's cub was downright unfathomable.

So the princess found herself with a permanent shadow and houseguest. Not that Leia minded having the wookiee around. She actually enjoyed it quite a bit. Especially when Luke began immersing himself in his Jedi studies, which were a great demand of his time. Chewbacca hung around and kept Leia from feeling alone. In her very pregnant months, the two of them would just sit around and watch the holonet together. They made jokes and Chewie would tell her stories of Han from before she had met him. Stories that made Leia laugh, while at the same time causing her heart to ache in longing. The two became inseparable.

This continued on after Bailey was born as well. The birth of the child had done wonders for Chewie's spirits. Seeing Han's newborn son had been the antidote to ease his pain. His step was lighter; his smiles were wider. The wookiee was also fiercely protective of the baby. It was as if Chewbacca had sworn to himself that he would never allow harm come to Bailey, as he felt he had to the child's father.

Leia also felt her happiness return with Bailey's arrival. Sometimes she would just look down at her son, and Leia would be filled with a wonder and joy that she didn't know was possible. That the baby strongly resembled Han was a source of both pride and pain for her, but Chewie just marveled at it. He loved pointing out their similarities at every opportunity. *Look at those reflexes,* the wookiee would boast, *I haven't seen reactions that quick since the asteroid field!* Leia would smile weakly at these comments, and soon Chewie realized that his observations bothered her so he kept them to himself.

Chewbacca had also begun to notice that the princess was becoming more withdrawn from him. Stories from the past in which she had once reveled in, now caused her tension. Often she would excuse herself mid-tale, or interrupt in an attempt to change the subject. Han Solo was soon no longer a welcomed topic of conversation in her presence.

This realization had at first deeply hurt Chewbacca and had confused him. However, understanding soon dawned. One afternoon, when Bailey was two years old, a nervous princess sat Chewie down and softly broke to him that she was going to get married. His name was Simon; he was Alderaanean. He was fond of Bailey, and would provide a stable environment for her and her child. Simon was a nice man, she had told him.

This news had at first angered Chewie. He was upset on behalf of his lost friend, but when it came down to it he realized that Leia had every right to try to move on with her life. She needed human companionship, a father figure for her son, and he couldn't stand in the way of that. Chewbacca gave her his blessing.

It was also on this occasion that Leia had once again asked Chewie if he would like to return to Kashyyyk. After all, he shouldn't feel obligated to her anymore-especially since Simon was going to be around. But again Chewie refused. The marriage would change nothing, he insisted, it would not erase the pledge he had made to Han.

So that was how it had been for the past several years. Chewbacca would take regular trips home to see his family, but for the most part he remained on Coruscant with Leia. Simon had felt awkward about the unusual set-up at first, but learned to adjust. He *was* a nice man, and Simon was not going to upset a situation everyone else seemed content with on his account. He would certainly never dream of depriving Bailey of his Uncle Chewie. Chewbacca eventually had to admit to himself that he approved of the princess' new husband. While Simon and the wookiee would never develop a close relationship, Chewie appreciated how the man always treated Leia with consideration. And it pleased Chewbacca to see that Simon did indeed have a genuine affection for her son.

It seemed to be a fine situation. Leia had appeared to be reasonably happy in her marriage, and Chewbacca imagined that everything was as it should be. Until recently. In the last couple of months, there seemed to be a tension between Leia and her husband that hadn't been there before. On a few occasions, Chewbacca has walked in on what he was sure had been an argument. But the couple had hushed up on his arrival, and Leia certainly did not volunteer any information to him later on. For the most part though, Simon and Leia did not fight. It seemed that they barely talked much at all. Conversations that did take place felt strained and awkward, and seemed put on for Bailey's benefit, or to fill the silence. This bothered the wookiee, but like Luke Skywalker earlier that day, he didn't feel he had the right to pry the princess about it.

Now, as Chewie stood in Leia's kitchen, he was tempted to ask if everything was indeed all right between them. He felt the need to know, but didn't want to voice his concerns in front of Bailey. He decided he would just test the waters, < So, how have things been since I've been away?>

Leia, who had hastily put on some Kashyyykian tea against Chewbacca's objections, was tending to it now over the stove. Her back was turned to the wookiee when she answered, "Fine, I guess."

< And Simon?>

"He's fine," Leia replied evenly, her back still turned. "But I want to hear about Kashyyyk. How's Malla?"

< She's good,> Chewie answered, aware of how Leia had managed to change the subject. < Lumpa's gotten real tall.>

"Oh wow, I bet."

Chewbacca felt a tug at his arm and looked down to see Bailey smiling up at him. "I'm real tall now too," he announced with confidence.

< Yes, you sure are.> Leia turned and smiled as she watched the wookiee pull Bailey up off the floor and drape him over his right shoulder, the whole time the child squealing in delight. < Perfect size...for a wookiee sandwich!>

"Whoa, no-no," Bailey sputtered, his body heaving with laughter. "Don't eat me Uncle Chewie! Pretty puh-lease!"

< I don't know, you look awfully tasty!>

"I'm not!" The child insisted, "I'm *poison*! If you eat me-ahhh!" Bailey broke out in hysterics as the wookiee blew a friendly raspberry on his belly.

Leia watched this whole scene with warm amusement. //Han would have loved this.// She thought fleetingly, and her smile faltered. Leia turned back to the stove, "Bailey, why don't you go find Threepio. We should really start dinner."

"Awwww, but Mom-"

"No 'buts'-now scoot. I'm going to need his help with this."

Chewie lowered the child back to the floor, and whispered < You better go switch him back on, Bailey.>

The boy slapped a small hand over his mouth, "Oh yeah, oops!"

Leia turned and gave the wookiee a look of mock annoyance as Bailey scampered off. "Oh no, why you two insist on torturing that poor droid, I'll never understand."

Chewbacca gave a sheepish shrug, < He was giving me a head ache. Besides, it was your son's idea.>

Leia rolled her eyes, but couldn't stifle the grin that took over her face. "Sometimes I forget which one of you is the six year old."

Chewbacca gave a little whuff of amusement, < Is that anyway to talk to a friend who just flew across the galaxy this morning to get back home?>

Leia shook her head at the wookiee, the smile never leaving her face, "Why don't you make yourself useful and chop up some vegetables? And while your busy with that you can tell me more about your trip."

The two of them began opening drawers and taking out utensils and cutting boards to prepare for dinner, all the while Chewbacca filling Leia in on the details of how he spent the past week. He assured her the falcon was running fine, and told her all about the day trip to Ithor he took with his son. < Oh,> Chewie added suddenly with excitement, < And guess who we ran into there?>

"Who?" Leia asked as she put the finishing touches on a small salad.

< Lando. Small galaxy, isn't it?>

Leia's back straightened slightly and she paused in her work. "Oh?" She replied coolly.

< Yeah,> Chewie continued, despite the princess' less than enthusiastic response. < And apparently he's fallen back into some old habits.>

"What-you mean gambling? That's no surprise."

< That- among other things.>

Leia had pulled out a knife and was chopping up some Endor stalks. Her hacking grew more fierce as she asked, "What? Smuggling? He's actually gone back to that?"

< Well...> Chewie hesitated, afraid he might have said too much.

The princess threw a glance at the wookiee her knife paused in mid-air. Her look was hard. Chewbacca began to wonder if bringing up Lando Calrissian had really been a wise idea. "Don't worry Chewie," Leia said, "I'm not going to turn him in." She turned back to her vegetables her head shaking in disgust, "I could really care less what that man does with his time."

< He looked in pretty bad shape actually,> Chewie continued on in a weak attempt to earn the ex-general some sympathy.

"Oh," was all Leia said. But Chewie figured what the princess really wanted to say was "Good."

Chewbacca, who had seen Lando in his unflagging effort to find and save Han all those years ago, had ultimately forgiven him. Leia, however, had been unable to be as charitable. She couldn't get over the fact that the gambler had betrayed them all, and had practically served them up on a silver platter for Darth Vader.

And then there was Han.

When it was evident that he was never going to be returned to them she had felt like the ground had been taken out from beneath her. That was the day her heart had forever hardened against Lando Calrissian. Leia tried to forgive him. In her head she knew he had had no choice and that he was truly remorseful for what he had done. But her heart wouldn't hear of it. All it knew was that now Han was gone from her forever and it stubbornly held Lando fully accountable.

Leia had only seen the gambler on a couple of occasions since that fateful afternoon in the hangar seven years ago. Once was at the funeral, where he had once again tried to offer her his apology and sympathy. Leia had listened to him in stony silence. When he was done with his desperate plea for forgiveness, Leia had coldly replied "fine, I forgive you," and then had abruptly excused herself. The stunned gambler had pretty much stayed away from her since then; turning up only once-to meet Bailey and give the infant some rare correllian coins he had once won from Han in a sabaac game. Leia had been civil. She thanked him for his thoughtfulness, and when the gambler had left she hid the coins in a box. //Who needed more painful reminders?// Leia had reasoned when she buried the box in the back of her closet.

Leia tensed at the memory. But her mood lightened as Bailey walked back into the kitchen, the befuddled Threepio following in his wake. "Master Bailey, I really see no reason for your-" the droid stopped as he noticed the princess. "Mistress Leia, so good to see you home. I was hoping you would be gracious enough to talk to Chewbacca and Bailey about their habit of constantly switching me off. Why, I'm only trying to-"

"Don't worry Threepio," Leia interrupted, "I'll have a word with them. Now why don't you two make up long enough to get the table ready?"

Leia shook her head in exasperation as she watched Threepio and Bailey start on their simple shared chore. It took all of two seconds before they began their usual bickering about which was the *proper* way to make a table. Leia would let them work it out for themselves, she was in no mood to play referee tonight.

< Princess,> Chewbacca said solemnly, diverting her attention from the scene in front of her. He touched her gently on the arm, < it's been almost seven years...>

Leia bristled under his hand. She did *not* want to talk about this. "I know," she replied simply, "so?"

< Soooo...> Chewie blew out a nervous breath, < maybe it is time to let go of your anger towards Lando. He has done nothing but torture himself about this and->

"I'm not angry," said Leia, her voice even. Chewbacca gave her a knowing look. The princess hastily turned away. "I'm *not*," she insisted.

The wookiee was quiet for a beat. < Good,> he said finally. < Then you won't mind if he comes for a visit.>

Leia looked up at Chewbacca, her eyes wide in disbelief. "What?" she gasped,

< Lando's coming.>

Leia shook her had as if to clear her thoughts. "What-when?"

< A few days. He just needed to make a stop over first. For...> the wookiee hesitated, < well, for one of his jobs.>

The princess gave Chewie a hard look. "And where exactly is he stopping first?" She snapped, "I don't want him tracking any of his illegal dealings up on my doorstep."

Chewbacca shook his head. < I'm sure it's nothing as bad as that. Just a small business deal he's got set up.>

"Oh, I bet." Leia spat, "And where is this deal? The spice mines of Kessel?"

< No,> Chewbacca assured her, < it's only on Tatooine.>


	5. Chapter Five

While You Were Gone--Chapter Five

The ex-general and once great hero of the rebellion now sat slumped at a bar, his head swimming from the half bottle of whiskey he'd consumed. His eyes bleary with drink and fatigue were set on the empty glasses in front of him. He didn't dare divert his gaze from them in fear that the cantina might start up that incessant spinning again.

The bartender, an overweight bothan, stood watching Lando Calrissian with a wary look on his face. "Hey buddy," he finally said, "do you need a ride somewhere or something?"

Lando looked up at the bartender blankly, his eyes unable to retain any focus. //Did that guy just say something?// "Huh?"

"A ride?" The bothan gestured at all the empty ale glasses, "You sure can't drive anywhere by yourself. I could call a cab if you'd like."

Lando shook his head. "Nah, I'm not leaving yet." He tapped his hand against the bar impatiently. "Get me another shot of Correllian Whiskey."

The bartender stood there motionless for a moment, as if deciding whether he should really serve the man another drink. Finally he just shook his head in resignation and handed the gambler another glass. "Just don't throw up in here," the bothan warned, "I'm sick of cleaning up after you drunks."

Lando scowled at the bartender, tossing a credit in one of the empty glasses. "Thanks for your concern," he muttered as he pushed himself up from the bar. The husky bothan watched the gambler stumble to a table in the corner. He shook his head in disgust and quietly cursed the man under his breath. Sometimes he really hated working in this dive.

Lando slid into the empty booth, careful to not spill his precious drink. He lazily peered around the bar, but all the different species just blended together into one colorful blur. The ex-general shook his head in gruff annoyance and threw back his shot of whiskey. He was still pissed that the deal he had come here for had fallen through. He should've known better than to believe a tip from that two-faced Ithorian. What had he been thinking? Mos Eisley of all places! This spaceport was a dump! The people here didn't even have two credits to rub together, much less enough money to take some goods off his hands. Lando rubbed his forehead tiredly, cursing himself repeatedly for being so gullible.

And now he was going to have to drop by Coruscant as well. Lando's stomach tightened at the mere prospect of facing Princess Leia. He couldn't do it. The gambler groaned in frustration. Why did he have to go and promise the wookiee that he would try to smooth things over between them? The princess was obviously not interested in making amends. That much was obvious to Lando. Even though she had been perfectly polite the last time he had dared visit her, Lando could tell that she was really fighting back the urge to spit in his face. You didn't win a ton of credits in sabaac without learning to read people. And Lando could read the disdain Leia felt for him as clearly as if it had been printed on her forehead.

The ex-general closed his eyes and his shoulders sagged in self-pity. No no no no no, this trip to Coruscant was definitely *not* something to look forward to.

As Lando sat in the back booth of the cantina, head resting heavily in his hands, two men pushed their way through the front door. The older man smiled confidently as he scoped out the room. "I don't think we'll have a problem finding a spacer here willing to make a deal."

Xavier looked around the room nervously, his eyes darting from one alien to the next. "How do we know who to ask?"

"Leave that to me," Malcolm assured him, his eyes coming to rest on the slumped human in the back, "and follow my lead." The older man pushed his way through the crowded bar his gaze never wavering from the man in the corner booth. From his body language, Malcolm could tell that the spacer had had too much to drink, and although his clothes were wrinkled and worn, Malcolm could also tell that they were made from expensive fabrics. And the cape! Only men of wealth wore garments like that. Yes, Malcolm was confident that this was a spacer who had money.

Lando massaged his temples lightly as he felt the beginning of a massive headache coming on. The throbbing pulsated through his ears, and all he could think of was the horrendous hang-over that awaited in his near future. Lando was caught off guard when two gentlemen slid across from him in his booth. He shot them a glare of warning.

The older man held up his hands innocently. "I am not here to cause any trouble," he assured Lando, "just thought that you looked like a man who likes to make deals."

"Deals?" Lando asked slowly, "What kind of deals?"

The older man smiled warmly, "You're a man of great taste. *Impeccable* taste. If I do say so myself."

Lando gave the man a skeptical scowl. He braced himself for the inevitable con job he could sniff was coming. "Oh, yeah?" He glanced over at the younger man, who was staring at him wide-eyed. Lando shot him a disgusted look. //What was his problem?//

The younger man reddened with embarrassment and he hastily looked down at the table. Malcolm gave Xavier a quick look of warning and continued, "Are you a collector-I'm sorry, I didn't get your name."

Lando peered at the man suspiciously. His head was still spinning, but the kid's gaping stare was enough to cause a warning bell to go off in his brain. "Why don't you tell me who you are first."

Malcolm smiled, "Oh, of course. Sorry about that. I'm Mandell Malcolm, and this here is my partner, Xavier Ross."

The kid called Xavier gave Lando a quick shy smile, and then looked back down at this hands. Something about the young man bothered the ex-general. Lando looked back at Malcolm coolly. "Yeah? Now tell me what you want and make it quick."

Malcolm swallowed the urge to throw an insult back at the spacer and forced a smile back on his face. "Of course," he said politely, "I don't want to take up too much of your time. Tell me, sir, what do you think of Imperial artifacts?"

Lando had to bite back a hearty laugh and spat, "Imps!" He smiled cheekily at the two men and shook his head in disbelief. The alcohol was still making him dizzy. "I think you guys have got the wrong man." He chuckled briefly. "No, in fact I know you do."

Malcolm pressed on, undeterred by Lando's flippant response. "Oh, but I'm sure you must know how much an Imperial artifact is now worth on the open market. Why a stormtrooper helmet alone could get you upwards of about 1500 credits!"

"Is that a fact?" Lando smirked drunkenly. "Well, let me just tell *you*-I did not risk my life in the rebellion just so a couple of sandtraders could eventually make a few good credits on Imperial *artifacts*."

Malcolm was taken aback, "I'm sorry, we didn't mean any-"

"I knew it!" Xavier interrupted with a gasp. He was once again staring at Lando openly. "You're Calrissian aren't you?"

Lando straightened up in his seat, unsure about whether to come clean. Malcolm sat there looking dumbfounded. Xavier pulled on his arm excitedly, "Didn't you see him on all the holovids sir? This is the man who blew up the second death star!" Xavier turned back towards Lando, his face flushed with excitement. "You practically ended the entire war with the empire single-handedly!"

Lando smiled modestly, waving off the young man's comments. "Well..to be honest, I did have some help with that."

"Wow," Xavier breathed, "you were amazing. *Amazing*." He turned to the older man in awe, "Isn't this unbelievable sir?"

Malcolm didn't respond. He peered at Lando inquisitively, his face contorted in deep thought. "Calrissian.." he muttered softly to himself, as if searching for something. Suddenly his eyes widened slightly in recognition and he leaned foward. "You look different," he said finally.

Lando rubbed at the scruff on his chin, suddenly self-conscious of the weight he must of put on from all his drinking. "Well it's been six or seven years," he said defensively.

Malcolm nodded slowly. "The beard is new." Suddenly he squinted his eyes and looked at Lando questioningly. "Hey," he said, "what ever happened to the wook you were with?"

Lando raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"Yeah," Malcolm said louder now, his head nodding confidently. "I remember you now. A few years ago you were snooping around here. You and a wookiee. Asking questions." Malcolm leaned closer, "Hey, did you ever find that friend of yours?"

Lando felt sick. It was like a cold wave had suddenly come crashing down on him. He slumped back into his seat, a heavy weight pressing down on him. "No," he finally answered. Lando desperately wanted another drink.

Malcolm shook his head in sympathy. "Aw, that's too bad. I'm sorry."

"Yeah, me too," Lando whispered, and the other men could barely hear what he said.

"What friend?" Xavier asked curiously, "What happened?"

Lando clenched his hands into fists, as if he were ready to physically beat back the memories if necessary. He shut his eyes, his head was swimming. He couldn't think. He didn't want to think. //Dammit, where was a service droid when you needed one?//

Malcolm shook his head at the young man, oblivious to Lando's turmoil. "Oh gods, it was some other rebel-right? What was his name.....?"

"Solo," Lando mumbled. His head was pounding. He just wanted these two men to get up and leave. And then Lando wanted ten more drinks, so he could blot out this entire conversation from his memory.

Malcolm paused suddenly, his face growing pale. "Solo, did you say?" His mind flashed to the image of a face, a scar, a man in a black correllian space vest. "*Han* Solo? The smuggler?"

Lando nodded, his expression sour, his gaze distant.

Malcolm fell back into his chair. His mind reeling. He flashed again to the face of the correllian smuggler. Suddenly Macolm saw that same face glossed over with a metallic shine-his expression now contorted in pain. *Frozen*.. Malcolm gasped in realization; his hands were suddenly shaking. He looked up at the spacer, his gaze steady and unyielding. "Mr. Calrissian," he finally said; his voice trembling.

"What?"

Malcolm allowed a small smile to spread across his face. "I think we just may have a deal for you after all."


	6. Chapter Six

While You Were Gone--Chapter Six

The night was warm. Almost muggy. The bench felt cool and smooth beneath her. She looked up at him. His profile was striking against the black backdrop of the sky. He seemed to be struggling with something. His hand reached tentatively for hers.

//I love you........I just wanted you to know that.//

Leia sprung upright in her bed. The loud beeping of the com link piercing through the air of her bedroom. She looked around disoriented. "Han?" she called softly.

Leia blinked in confusion. The room was so dark. As her eyes adjusted she could barely make out the black shapes of her dresser and bedside table. Her apartment came into focus, and Leia felt a wave of despair as she realized that the park had been nothing but a dream.

The beeping was unrelenting, and the persistence of the shrill noise drove the last sleep from her. Leia shook her head in an attempt to clear her thoughts. //It's only the transmitter.// She rubbed her head tiredly as she sluggishly forced herself out of bed. Leia stumbled across the dark room, cursing silently as she stepped on something sharp. //This better not be work calling, // she thought crossly.

Leia slapped the pick up button in annoyance, uncaring about how she might appear to whoever was calling her. The transmission on the screen was filled with static at first, and then dissolved to reveal the sharp distinguished features of her husband. He smiled self-consciously, "Hello, Leia."

Leia momentarily averted her eyes in guilt. Suddenly she was afraid that if she looked at her husband long enough he might be able to read her thoughts. He might realize that she had just been dreaming of another man. "Simon," she answered nervously.

"Sorry to call so late. I forgot about the time difference."

Leia forced a reassuring smile. "That's okay. Sorry I look like such a wreck."

Simon grinned, "Don't be silly. You look beautiful-as always."

Leia swallowed guiltily at the compliment. She cleared her throat. "So how is everything?" she asked, trying to keep her voice light.

"Wonderful! I feel that I am really making progress with these people."

Leia smiled wanly, "That's good. I'm glad to hear it."

"We are setting up some real beneficial programs, and I truly believe that we will have New Alderaan up and running in no time." Simon was pleased.

"Wow, that's really great." There was a sudden silence between them. It stretched out just a couple of seconds too long.

"Sooo," Simon finally said, "how's Bailey?"

"He's fine. Chewie's finally back so that's got him real excited."

"Wonderful," Simon replied and he shifted restlessly in his chair. "I trust Chewbacca had a nice trip?"

"Yes, it sounded like it."

Simon gave a tight smile. "Good," he said simply. He was running out of conversation topics. Simon's eyes flicked nervously off screen, then his gaze returned to Leia. "Well....I'm glad all is well. I was just calling to let you know that I shall be home in a couple of days." He hesitated, "Possibly a week at most."

Leia nodded in understanding, a small part annoyed with herself for feeling relief that the conversation was ending. "Okay, well let me know when you're on your way."

"Of course. Give Bailey a hug for me."

"I will." Leia reached to cut the connection, but Simon wasn't finished.

"Oh, and Leia?"

"Yes?" she asked, her hand paused right above the hang up button.

Simon swallowed, "I miss you..."

Leia tensed, a wave of shame overwhelming her. She forced a small smile. "Me too," she replied.

Simon gave her another sad smile and then the transmission abruptly ended. Leia sighed, her shoulders sagging in relief. She pressed the com button off and the snowy screen went black.

Leia looked around her room feeling forlorn. She was at a loss. The princess eyed her rumpled bed and knew she wouldn't be able to fall back asleep. Her thoughts suddenly seemed too chaotic, she needed to just *sit alone* for a minute. Leia rubbed her temples tiredly for a moment and then made her way towards the kitchen for some tea.

The tile felt cold beneath her feet and the room was eerily silent as Leia went about reheating some of the Kashyyykian tea she had made earlier. A few minutes later she was sitting quietly at the table. The darkness weighed heavily on her, but she didn't turn on any lights. Leia didn't want anyone else to know she was awake. She just wanted to be alone.

Leia's mind flashed to her dream. A lump formed in her throat as thought back to sitting on the bench. His strong hand slowly reaching for her. //I love you....I just wanted you to know that.// Leia closed her eyes tightly, trying to physically ward off the tears that were welling up. "Oh gods..." she moaned softly.

Leia's thoughts suddenly drifted to Simon. She remembered how emotionally drained she felt after the short conversation with him. Leia bit her lip in despair. //That can't be normal.// She felt a tightening in her stomach. //Do I love him? Yes, I would've never married him if I didn't.// Yet despite this reasoning, Leia couldn't shake the nagging sense of what she might find if she were to examine her thoughts honestly. //No, stop that. Simon's a wonderful man. He loves Bailey. I respect and care for him deeply.//

Leia wrapped her hands around the warm mug, as if to try and draw strength from it. Her blurry gaze looked past the dark liquid, her thoughts once again overpowering her.

//Oh, but Han....//

Leia choked back a sob as she felt the warm tears stream down her face. She felt ashamed of her tears, and of her sudden weakness. //What's wrong with me?// Leia slammed a fist against the table in frustration. She had been all right. For years she had been doing fine. Just *fine*. And now all of a sudden....

Leia's mind flooded with memories; they ran together like wet ink. //A first look at a young correllian pirate. That flirtatious wink. Their first kiss.... // Leia sniffed, and her thoughts darkened. //Red. Billowing smoke. Han. Frozen// Leia slammed her fist again. It served her right. She should have known better than to give her heart to someone-especially in the middle of a war! Of course Han would be taken from her. Just like her family. And Alderaan. Just one more empty void in her life.

Suddenly, a wave of grief overwhelmed the princess so deeply that she could barely breathe. And in a moment of uncharacteristic self-pity and despair, Leia crumpled up against the table and began to cry. Her shoulders heaved up and down in the darkness. Warm steam rose from her cup adding a dream-like quality to the air, and the steady ticking of the chrono offered the only accompaniment to her sobs.

At this moment Princess Leia-former great leader of the rebellion-felt like the loneliest woman in the galaxy.


	7. Chapter Seven

While You Were Gone--Chapter Seven

Half-way across the galaxy from the weeping princess, Lando Calrissian was pacing his ship restlessly; fruitlessly trying to walk off the shock and amazement that emcompassed his body. His mind was reeling, all signs of alcohol pushed away by the adrenaline now pulsating through his body. //Han! Alive!// It was all too unbelievable. No, more than that. It was a *blastin' miracle*.

The two other men sat in silence, patiently waiting for the spacer to calm down. Malcolm quirked his mouth in amusement. He had never seen a man so thrown for a loop before in his entire life. Calrissian's sudden turn of face had been an amazing thing to behold. When Malcolm had first told the ex-general that he just may have some information regarding the whereabouts of his dear friend, Lando had scowled at him in disbelief. But he had been intrigued inspite of himself. Malcolm eventually got the skeptical gambler to follow him. The spacer was wary, and didn't waste any time in reminding the two men that he *had* killed before, so they had "better not try anything funny."

But it was that look on Calrissian's face when he first rested his eyes on the slab of carbonite that Malcolm would never forget. Lando's face had drained of all its color; his mouth gaped open in shock. He had rubbed his hands against his head in disbelief. "How-?" was all he had managed to utter at first.

When the men had been loading up his ship, Calrissian had been reluctant to even touch the carbonite. It was as if he was afraid he would reach out and it would dissolve before his very eyes. And after his initial shock wore off, Lando seemed to have trouble even looking at it as well. "Just put him with the med unit," he had requested softly.

The spacer's peculiar behavior had even continued during the negotiations, when Lando had abruptly gotten up from his seat and went into the backroom to sit with his friend. Perplexed by his odd departure, Malcolm had approached the doorway and saw the ex-general silently sitting vigil by the cold slab of carbonite. He looked pained. Remorseful. But what surprised Malcolm was that he also looked *scared*. It was then that Malcolm had realized that he had the upperhand in this situation--and the older man had every intention of taking advantage of it.

Calrissian had since returned to the room. His energy and disbelief were once again radiating from him. Lando's brain was having a hard time processing what had occurred this evening. It was obvious to Malcolm and Xavier that the spacer was beyond shocked. Lando looked over at the two men responsible for this astonishing turn of events. His face was still wide-eyed and stunned. "What-what should I do now?"

Malcolm's mouth tugged up in amusement. "Let him out? But only after you have finished dealing with us of course."

Lando's gaze automatically strayed in the direction of the med room, where the cold carbonite slab of his friend was presently stowed. "Do-do you think I should? I mean is it safe?" Lando resumed his pacing. "I mean, maybe he should have special medical attention. Oh-gods!" Calrissian's mind was spinning at a million parsecs per minute. "What about Han's friends? Should I call them?"

Malcolm smiled. "Yes," he said evenly, "they might be interested to know that the person whom they have been mourning for several years is actually alive."

Lando paused mid-stride and turned towards Malcolm. "But what do I tell them? I don't even know where to start."

Malcolm crossed his arms and leaned back in his seat. "To be honest General Calrissian, how you work this out does not concern me. What I am most interested in is that you remember your end of the deal?"

Lando nodded numbly. He was still understandably blown away. "Of course, I'll take you anywhere you would like to go." Lando licked his lips nervously, "But I need a little time coming up with the credits you requested."

Malcolm cocked an eyebrow, "Not too much time, I hope."

"No, it shouldn't take too long." Lando's eyes darted nervously around the controls of his ship, as if searching for inspiration. Where *would* he get the money? The princess? While Lando was sure that Leia would be willing-no more than willing-to cough up the credits to save Han, he still felt awkward with approaching her about this. Maybe it was because he still didn't even know how to break the news of Solo being alive in the first place. It was complicated. And gods forbid Han didn't survive the unfreezing process. Would it be fair to get the princess' hopes up for nothing? Or even Chewie's for that matter?

Lando turned towards Malcolm. "You have to let me unfreeze Han first."

"Excuse me?"

"In a hospital, with a full staff of doctors and equipment." Lando took a steadying breath, "After I know he's all right, then I'll get you your money."

Malcolm leaned forward, his eyes steely with anger. "That was not part of the arrangement." The older man slammed a frustrated fist against his knee, "The agreement was that you give us the credits and passage to the planet of our choice. Then-and *only* then-could you release Solo."

Lando raised his palms up defensively, "You have to understand," he tried to remain calm, "I can't just go up to his friends and ask for this money if I am not absolutely positive that Han is really okay." Lando thought of the princess; her look of utter despair that day in the hangar. "I-I can't do that to them," he said, "I have to be sure. For their sakes."

Xavier looked sympathetic, but Malcolm just shook his head violently, "No way." He pointed a finger at Calrissian, "You drag us to a hospital and I know you'll have the NRI on us so fast our heads would spin. I'm not stupid."

Lando shook his head in denial, "No, I swear. You'll get your money. You have my word."

Malcolm gave him a scowl. "Oh, I'm sure your word is positively binding," he muttered sarcastically, "but you can just forget it." Malcolm was disgusted, he pointed another finger at Lando. "And let me just remind you Calrissian, that I could have just as easily sold your man to a bounty hunter for twice as much as your paying me-so don't push it." Of course Malcolm was partly bluffing. He wouldn't have been able to hand Solo over to one of those villainous scums. The same nagging part of him that had made him take the frozen captain from the abandoned dwelling in the first place would have prevented it. Malcolm was really going to have to start doing away with that part of him. It was a real burden. But even Malcolm's conscience had it's limit. "No way, Calrissian. No hospitals."

Lando was at a loss. He didn't know what to do. And even though it was not his style, Lando found himself uttering an unfathomable word: "Please."

Malcolm looked away. It was Xavier who finally spoke up. The young man was still in awe of the ex-general who had played such a intrinsic role in the rebellion. He would not pass up this opportunity to possibly help out his hero. "Maybe we could reach a compromise," he said hopefully.

The two other men regarded him silently for a moment. "How?" Calrissian finally asked.

"Well, my father was a doctor..." Xavier licked his lips nervously. He hated being the center of attention. "On Tatooine, before the Imperials came."

Lando got excited, "A doctor? Can he help us?"

Xavier reddened in embarrassment. "Well no," his eyes shifted to his lap, "he died a few years ago." Calrissian's shoulders sagged in disappointment. "B-but," Xavier continued, "I did pick up a few things from him. Maybe I could help with...with the unfreezing process."

Lando looked at the young man skeptically. //Was he kidding?// The kid couldn't have been more than eighteen. Nineteen, tops. Lando wondered if he should really trust Han's life in the hands of some backwater teenager. Of course, then again, how old was Luke Skywalker when he took on the first death star? And wasn't he from the same desolate planet? Maybe that was actually a good sign. Lando finally gave a small nod. "Okay, I could go along with that. Malcolm?"

The older man blew out a sigh. "I don't know," he said, "what if we defrost this guy and then the two of you decide to team up and...." Malcolm shook his head at the possibilities. He wasn't going to have the ex-general and that smuggler joining forces and preventing him and Xavier from collecting their due credits.

"But, sir-" Xavier blurted, "Solo will be in no position to offer up any sort of fight after we free him ." Xavier turned his head to Calrissian, "You said that's carbonite?"

Lando nodded gravely.

The young man was alarmed. "Really?" He shook his head in disbelief, "I've never heard of a human being-" his voice faltered as he noticed Calrissian's stern expression. "Anyway, that's not important," Xavier turned to his boss with confidence. "The important thing is that yes, he'll definitely be too weak, I assure you."

Malcolm still didn't look convinced. "*How* weak?"

"Well, his body would be suffering from hibernation sickness for one thing." Xavier rubbed his chin thoughtfully, a mannerism he had picked up from his boss. "And judging from the time that has elapsed since he was first frozen, I would say it would be pretty severe."

Lando's brow shot up in concern. "Hibernation sickness? How severe?!"

"Non-life threatening," Xavier quickly assured him. "Well, as long as everything else goes smoothly." Calrissian suddenly looked visibly nervous. The young man could tell by his pained expression that he was reconsidering this arrangement. "But General," he stuttered, " nothing should go wrong. I-I won't let it." Xavier knew he was making a big statement just then. He took a nervous breath and continued, "His body will be a bit of a shipwreck for awhile, but it's nothing he shouldn't fully recover from in time."

Lando winced at the use of the word 'shipwreck'--his mind briefly flashing to the fate of the 'Slave I'--but then he nodded slowly. "Okay, that's good to hear."

Xavier turned back to his boss. "Sir, what do you think?"

Malcolm shook his head and gave a derisive snort, "You," he turned to Xavier, "weren't you the one who wanted to leave that guy behind in the first place? What was all that talk about him 'demanding his stuff back', huh?"

Xavier reddened in embarrassment, and he threw a quick nervous glance to Lando. His voice was hushed as he looked back at Malcolm. "But sir," he insisted, "that was before I knew who he was!" Xavier rubbed his hands anxiously against the legs of his pants. He swallowed nervously before continuing, "I think that after all that General Calrissian has done for the rebellion, we owe it to him to at least let his friend loose."

Lando averted his eyes in shame as the kid gave him another awe-inspired smile. //If he only knew!// Lando didn't deserve this open adoration. Not after what he had done. Sure, he had joined the ranks of the alliance and had helped destroy the Empire's final super weapon. But even after Lando had helped end the war it still did not remove the dark spot of guilt that weighed heavily on his heart. He had sought redemption from Han's 'death' by taking up the cause. Only, he realized too late, that he could destroy a hundred death stars and it still wouldn't erase the immense blame he felt. It would not give Han back to Leia and Chewie. It would not give a child his father.

But now. Now he may really be able to do just that. Lando couldn't suppress the pleading in his voice as he turned to Malcolm, "You have to let me do this."

Malcolm carefully studied both of the men. He squinted his eyes thoughtfully and then replied, "Here's the deal: You-" he gave Calrissian a pointed look, "get this ship into hyperspace. Punch in the coordinates to our planet of choice, and *then* you can begin to thaw out your buddy there." Lando broke out into a relieved grin. "But," Malcolm continued, "I want this ship far from this dustball before you even step near that med room. Got it?"

Lando nodded in agreement, "I'll take you anywhere you want to go. But I have to stop off someplace first to get your money."

Malcolm finally leaned back in his seat, "Where's that?"

"Coruscant. I know friends of Captain Solo there. They would be more than willing to pay what you are asking for him."

"Coruscant, huh?" Malcolm smiled thoughtfully as he imagined the thriving planet. It was a prosperous city, flourishing with the latest technology. Probably the greatest contrasting environment from Tattooine there was. The older man looked up at Calrissian, "Actually," he said, "that sounds perfect."


	8. Chapter Eight

While You Were Gone--Chapter Eight

Luke's eyes snapped open as he was abruptly pulled from his Jedi trance. He felt a disturbance in the force. A rippling presence he had not felt since.......Luke took a deep breath as he gazed inwardly at his thoughts. Yes, the presence was strong. As if a light that had once flickered out had been magically revived to all it's glowing brilliance.

Luke opened his eyes in understanding. He needed to speak to Leia--fast.

********

Everything was black. And cold. Muted voices echoed in the distance.

The captain jerked violently. Suddenly his lungs burned hotly as he sucked in a desperate breath. //Air!// He gulped at it greedily. //Real air!// His mouth tasted like metal. And it felt dry.

Han Solo reached out blindly, his hands trembling too violently for him to grab onto anything. //Why was it so dark?//

His left hand came in contact with cool metal. Suddenly he could make out the steady hum of a hyperdrive engine. //It was working again?. Where was he? The Falcon?// No. The engine's never sounded like that. //But weren't they on the way to Bespin?//

Han flicked his eyes around frantically, straining to see something; *anything*. "Leia?" he called hoarsely, "Chewie??" //What the hell was going on?//

"....Captain Solo...." A muffled voice answered, "...hear me?" "What's-" Han clenched his teeth as he suddenly felt his muscles cramp up in agony. He bit down hard to fight back the scream in his throat, his body jerking in protest.

Lando watched this in panic, his eyes widening, "What's wrong with him??"

Xavier shot him a quick look, his hands busily working to get the syringe ready. "This is to be expected," he said in a rush. "I'll, uh, just give him a shot of this and it should be fine."

Han's shaking was uncontrollable now. He could barely get out a coherent sentence. "Wha-where..am.." Solo tilted his head, his eyes wide as they rested on the ex-general. Lando felt a quick chill course through him. For that one fleeting moment he felt like Han was looking through him. But then he realized that Han's eyes were not wide in recognition but in fear. And they were eerily blank, registering no acknowledgment of anything around him.

Xavier leaned over the trembling captain, "I'm just giving you a muscle relaxant. This should ease the cramping."

Han turned his head towards the voice. "What? Who are you?"

Xavier gave Lando a desperate look. The kid was obviously waiting for the ex-general to step in as the recognizable voice and calm down his friend. Lando averted his eyes from Xavier and swallowed. It was time to step forward, even if it meant Han Solo would kill him. "Han," he said smoothly, "it's me, Lando."

Han's expression was incredulous. "Lando?"

"The man with me is Xavier Ross," he continued, "he's going to give you a shot for the pain and tremors. But it's okay, you can trust him."

Han's mouth gaped open in shock, and he hardly flinched when Xavier plunged the needle into his arm. "Lando, but what are you doing here?" Solo tried to keep the nervous edge out of his voice, "Wha-why can't I see?"

Lando gave Xavier a questioning glance. The young man spoke up, "You have hibernation sickness. Your blindness is only temporary."

Han relaxed for a moment, but then his face visibly tensed. "Where's Chewie and Leia?"

Lando opened his mouth to answer, but then abruptly shut it. Han didn't seem to remember what had happened. Not yet. And now Lando didn't know what to tell him. Where would he start? Back on Cloud City when he had turned his friend over to Vader? Lando licked his lips nervously. "Han," he began, "what do you remember?"

"I...we were in the falcon." Han reluctantly leaned back on the med bunk, his gaze fixed vacantly up at the ceiling. "The hyperdrive's busted," he grimaced self-consciously, "those damn imps.....you know how that is."

"Sure buddy," Lando said with encouragement, "I know how that goes."

"So we were taking the slow route," Han couldn't suppress a small smile. "But that's okay, it's been kinda nice," his voice was wistful. "Like a break from everything." The smuggler's expression grew tender as he thought of how he and the princess had been filling in the time. Han felt so close to her now. Like he finally found someone who really understood him. There was Chewie of course, but he was his best friend and first mate. That was expected. But with Leia.... there was just this *connection* there. It was overwhelming and frightening. And so amazingly wonderful at the same time. //You got it bad for her, Solo.// Yeah, he knew he did. But surprisingly, for once the idea didn't bother him. Leia was definitely worth it. 

Suddenly Han remembered himself- and who was standing over him- and his face quickly hardened. No point in looking soft in front of Calrissian, he might never hear the end of it. And it wasn't the time to be thinking about this. Han cleared his throat. Besides, Leia--Han's head jerked up suddenly. "Leia?" Han looked desperately in Lando's direction. "You never answered my question, where *is* she?"

"She's safe," he quickly assured Solo, "both her *and* Chewie. They're all right."

Han blew out a relieved sigh. "Good," he laid his head back down on the bunk; his body relaxing noticeably. Han could feel that his muscles had stopped their furious cramping. Even the trembling seemed to be abating a bit. His eyelids suddenly felt heavy though. "Lando..." Han said groggily as something that was said earlier finally penetrated his fog, "tell me somethin'....."

Lando leaned in to catch his friend's words, "Yeah?"

"How....'d I.....get hibernation sick....?"

Lando opened his mouth, but he couldn't figure out a way to phrase his answer. He looked guiltily up at Xavier, and it was obvious from the young man's expression that he seemed to be expecting a response as well. "Han, I-" Lando turned back to his friend and noted his heavy breathing. "Han?"

The Correllian was out cold. "Wha-? Is he okay?" Lando looked up at the young man expectantly.

"Oh yeah," Xavier assured him, "that's just the meds kicking in. He'll wake up again and hopefully by then the worst of it will be over."

The ex-general's shoulders sagged in relief. Well, at least he had a small reprieve from what was sure to be an emotionally draining conversation. How does one even begin to fill someone in on seven lost years? There was so much that he had missed. And how would Lando confess his part in Han's being gone all that time?

Xavier coughed, breaking Lando from his nervous reverie. The young man rocked back on his heels in satisfaction. "Well?"

Lando looked up at the kid warily, "what?"

Xavier couldn't stifle his grin, "did I tell you I would get your friend out okay or what?"

Lando tried to push aside his foreboding, and he forced a smile at the young man's smug expression. He stood up and slapped him good-naturedly on the back. The realization that Han was really okay was finally sinking in. He was being selfish, wallowing in self-pity. Lando should be celebrating Han's recovery, not dreading it for the sake of his own hide. Han was back!

"Yeah, nice job kid," he said as he led Xavier out of the room, "but don't go gettin' cocky."


	9. Chapter Nine

While You Were Gone--Chapter Nine

"Momma?"

Leia snapped her head up with a start. The fierceness of the morning light caused her to quickly cover her eyes. "Bailey," she gasped in surprise. "What are you doing up?"

The boy tugged at the bottom of his lip nervously. "It's breakfast time."

Leia squinted in confusion. The sunlight reflected brightly through the kitchen windows and cut sharply through her sleep-induced haze. Leia rubbed her eyes tiredly and the room slowly came into focus. A quick glance at the chrono on the wall showed that it was indeed early morning. Leia rubbed the cramp out of the back of her neck as she noted her mug still sitting in front of her; the tea long gone cold. "So it is," she conceded. She looked back at her son, standing there in his 'Space Racer' pajamas, his hair still disheveled from sleep. "Are you hungry?"

The boy nodded slowly, his gaze still questioning. He was no doubt curious as to why his mother had been sleeping at the kitchen table. Leia gave him a comforting smile, "Why don't you go tell Threepio to fix you something," she stifled a small yawn, "Momma's got to get ready for work."

Bailey gave another small nod, but did not move. He stared at her imploringly, his eyes wide. His fingers still tugged thoughtfully at his bottom lip. Leia gave her son a questioning look. "Honey," she asked, "what's wrong?"

The boy didn't answer.

Leia's eyebrows raised in concerned. "Bailey?" She took the boy's hand, and gently pulled it from his face. "Is something the matter?"

Bailey shrugged, his gaze shifting to the tiles lining the floor. A moment of silence passed. Slowly he looked up at her again, his hazel eyes gazing thoughtfully at her. Leia's breath caught in her throat. She turned away abruptly. //Gods, that is so Han.// Leia barely made out her son's next words. "What?" She asked him, her mind distracted. 

"Is daddy coming home now?" He repeated anxiously.

Leia turned back to her son, her expression softening. She smiled in relief. So that's what had the boy all upset, he missed Simon. "No sweetie," she said lightly as she stood up from her chair. "Not until the end of the week." Leia ruffled her son's hair affectionately and started to head off towards her bedroom. 

"No," Bailey said impatiently. "I don't mean *Simon*."

His tone stopped the princess in her tracks. Leia turned back to her son. Bailey gave her an eager look. "I mean my *real* daddy. Is he coming home?"

Leia suddenly felt light. She leaned back against the kitchen counter to steady herself. "What?" 

Bailey was oblivious to his mother's turmoil and pressed on. "You know, my *real* daddy. The one in Uncle Chewie's stories." Bailey's little hand once again reached for his lip. His voice became almost a whisper, "I think he's coming back now."

Leia swallowed. "Sweetie," she began softly as she made her way back to her son. She kneeled down in front of him, her voice almost cracking, "your real daddy is with the angels. You know that."

Bailey shook his head adamantly. "No," he insisted. "He's coming back. I saw it."

Leia bit her lip as she tried to tune out the sudden ringing in her ears. She felt dizzy. "Bailey," she began gently, "what do you mean you 'saw it'?"

The boy shrugged his shoulders in frustration. "I don't know-I just *saw* it. Like a pitcher in my head."

Leia felt her stomach tighten. Her eyes combed over the boy's face as if searching for something. Maybe she was. It had never occurred to Leia that Bailey would have talent in the force. Well, it had *occurred* to her, but she had furiously dismissed the notion from the moment she had first laid eyes on him. There was no way, she had reasoned upon looking down at the sweet innocence that was her son, that he could have even a touch of Darth Vader in him. It just wasn't *possible*.

And that's what the force represented to Leia. The evil of her biological father. She refused to believe that her beloved little boy could be cursed with the same affliction that eventually drove Vader to perform his unspeakable acts. Of course Luke had argued with her endlessly about Bailey and his 'potential'. While he admitted that he didn't feel that the boy was as attuned to the force as say his mother, Luke did sense an underlying talent. One that young Bailey might be able to develop more fully as he got older. But Leia wouldn't hear of it. Her son was going to be 'normal'. On this point she was resolute. Leia was going to raise her son to be as carefree and happy as possible. She refused to burden him with the same heavy responsibilities that plagued her growing up. "It really doesn't matter what you say to me Luke," she had argued once, her arms crossed. "You can accuse me of 'stifling his potential' all you'd like, but it's a moot point. Bailey doesn't even *have* the force." She had shaken her head, and her voice raised in exasperation, "why, I have never even seen him levitate anything in his entire life!" But Luke had just smiled patiently at her, the shine in his eyes implying that he understood something that she did not. 

And that look had not escaped Leia's notice. It had annoyed her at the time, but now she reflected back on it fleetingly. She felt a small stab of worry as studied her little boy's cherubic face. Leia mentally shook off her concern. No, she was right. She had to be. After all, Bailey had never shown any propensity towards the force. Nothing that *Leia* had noticed anyway.

Besides, what Bailey was proposing was impossible. And it broke Leia's heart to have to explain this to him. "Hon," she said, lightly brushing a lock of hair from his forehead, "what you had was a dream. That's all." Leia gave a sympathetic frown. "It wasn't real."

Bailey stuck out his bottom lip and stomped a small foot in frustration. "It *was* real. I *know* it was."

Leia swallowed a small groan of frustration. The little boy had an undeniable stubborn streak in him, and he could argue with her all day. However, this morning she had not the time nor energy. Leia tried to brush off his concern with a kiss on the forehead. "Dreams can *feel* real sometimes, but it doesn't mean they are." Leia stood up and offered her son another comforting smile. "Now you better hurry up if you want Threepio to fix you breakfast before school."

Bailey looked up at her in disappointment. His pouty frown clearly conveying his dissatisfaction with her response. "But Mom-" he argued, his voice taking on a slight whine, "it's true! I know it is!"

"That's enough," Leia said forcibly, and she winced at her sharp tone. She took a steadying breath, "Bailey," she started again, her voice softer. "We can talk about this later. But right now I *really* need to get ready for work, and *you* need to get dressed."

Leia gently pushed the boy towards his bedroom. She watched as her son walked slowly away, his shoulders slumped in defeat, his head bent. Leia felt a pang of guilt and called after him, "Bailey?"

The boy stopped and turned his head to her. He gave her a silent look, his expression solemn.

Leia mentally cursed herself for the part she played in his sudden low spirits. She tried giving him an encouraging smile. "What do you say," she said, her voice filled with false cheer, "that we plan something special to do this week. Just the two of us." 

Bailey was quiet for a moment, as if seriously considering her proposal. His gaze strayed vacantly to the floor before he finally looked back up at his mother. Leia's heart warmed with relief as he gave her a small crooked smile. "Sure Momma," he said softly, "that sounds fun."

Leia watched the boy as he headed back to his room. Her heart clenched and she rubbed her forehead tiredly. Well, when it rains it pours. Leia blew out an exasperated sigh and headed off for the refresher. Maybe when Simon got back they could plan a vacation. Get away for awhile. Escape the pressures of the real world for some real family time. Perhaps a little time away would be exactly what she and Simon needed to bridge the recent rift between them.

As Leia got ready for work she could feel herself growing more excited over the idea. By the time she came back into the kitchen she was actually smiling. Bailey looked up from his bowl of 'Sugar Space 'stroids' to give her a toothy grin. Leia was pleased to see that he was dressed, and apparently in better spirits. Although she was a little disturbed by his choice of breakfast. "Honey, why didn't you have Threepio fix you some eggs?"

"Didn't want any," he answered simply as he shoveled another spoonful in his mouth.

Leia wrinkled her nose in disgust. "I don't like you eating that stuff. It's not good for you."

"But Momma," Bailey said seriously, his eyes wide. "This is what 'Space Racer' eats and he's the fastest pilot in the galaxy!"

"I'm sure he is," Leia said patiently as she made her way to fridge unit, "but I doubt he got that way from eating a bowl of sugar every morning." She pulled out a cool bowl of fruit and put it on the table. "At least have some of this too."

Bailey shrugged his shoulders in easy agreement as Chewbacca made his way into the room. The wookiee slid into a chair across from the boy, < Princess, > he said as he reached over the fruit for the 'Sugar 'stroids', < you got two messages while you were in the 'fresher. > 

Leia raised an eyebrow in surprise, "two? Who's calling me at this-oh no." She glanced up at the chrono. "No, it can't be Mon Mothma. I'm not late yet!"

Chewie shook his head as he poured himself a generous bowl of cereal. < No. She didn't call. > 

"Well," Leia asked, reaching for a handful of Alderaanean berries. "who called then?"

< Luke was one. He said to get back to him. It was important. > 

Leia rolled her eyes. "Yeah, I'm sure it is." She popped a berry into her mouth. She would call him later. "Who was the other?"

Chewie gave her a small knowing smile. < Lando. > 

"Oh wonderful," she said flatly, "when is he coming in? Or did he have a sudden change of plans?" Leia couldn't keep the hopeful tone out of her voice.

< No, he's still coming. > Chewie smirked, < actually he was calling to say he would be here sooner than he thought. > 

"Really?" Leia was surprised.

< Yes, and he wanted to make sure that you were going to be on planet. > Chewie looked up thoughtfully, < actually he was very adamant about that. He wasn't asking, he was insisting. You were not to leave for any reason. And he would contact you immediately when he touched ground. > 

Leia gave Chewie a curious look. "Really? He said that? Did he say why?"

Chewbacca shrugged. < No. He seemed really excited about something though. > 

Leia turned away, biting her thumb thoughtfully. "Hmm...that's odd."

Bailey suddenly beamed up at his mother, a small line of milk dribbling down his chin. "Maybe he's got a surprise for you!"

Leia raised a cynical eyebrow. "Lando? Let's hope not."


	10. Chapter Ten

While You Were Gone--Chapter Ten __

The scream tore through his throat as his body fought off the imaginary binders that held his wrists. He jerked in panic; disturbing images raced through his mind.

Darth Vader. Standing over the whole procedure, his mask perfectly illustrating his cold indifference. The black outline of his body like a dark blot against the orange glow of his surroundings. //Put him in!//

Chaos. Smoke.

He looked up at the princess and the wookiee. Their faces mournful and sad as they gazed down at him. 

//I love you.//

//I know.//

And then larger gusts of smoke. A blast of arctic cold. He screamed again, this time until his throat was raw.

Han Solo awoke with a start; his heart racing. He looked around frantically, a little surprised when the blur of the room suddenly sharpened into a clear picture in front of him. He was in a med room. On a ship. That much he could discern.. Han took a deep breath, as he tried to regain control over the panic that had engulfed him. His body was still shaking as he swung his legs over the side of the bunk. _What the hell had happened to him??_ Han leaned forward in an attempt to steady the sudden rush of nausea he felt. 

He still felt so sick, and he was exhausted. Fleeting dark images from his dream still raced through his mind. Han couldn't shake the memory of the fear that had gripped his heart in those final moments before he had been frozen. He couldn't forget the languished expressions of his friends as they watched him being lowered to his fate. Han rubbed his face tiredly. One particular moment suddenly flashed in his mind, the words echoing faintly in his memory. _I love you!_ The princess had proclaimed in that last desperate moment. Han grimaced as he recalled his response. _I know._ Well, he *had* known. But still. He should have responded differently.

"Captain Solo?"

Han's head snapped up in surprise. There was a young guy standing at the doorway, in his hands he held some towels and a syringe. The young man gave the captain a small smile. "I see you're finally awake."

Han glared at the kid accusingly. "Yeah, so? Who are you?"

The young man took a small step into the room, "I'm not surprised you don't remember. I'm Xavier. I've sort of been tending to you the past couple of days."

Han's eyes widened. "Days?"

Xavier's cheeks reddened. "Well, yeah. I mean you had a pretty severe case of hibernation sickness there." He swallowed nervously, "one of the worst cases I've ever seen."

"Yeah, well..." Han's face hardened and his voice took on an edge, "I bet it's not everyday you see someone frozen in carbonite is it?" He stared at the kid, his eyes darkening in anger.

Xavier quickly averted his gaze. He fidgeted in discomfort, his weight swaying from side to side. "No," he answered softly. "I guess I don't."

Han pulled his angry glare away from the kid. He felt bad. After all, it wasn't this guy he had the gripe with. Han looked down at the floor in front of him. "Where's Lando?" he finally asked. His voice was lower now, but the underlying hardness was still there. 

"He's out at the moment."

Han looked up in annoyance, "out? He's _out_? Where?!"

Xavier had a sudden urge to flee the room. He cast a hopeful glance over his shoulder, as if he might be so lucky as to see that the General and Malcolm had returned. He sighed in disappointment and turned back to the captain.. "We landed on Coruscant just forty minutes ago-"

"Coruscant?!" Han leapt up from the bunk, ignoring the immediate bout of dizziness he had to contend with. He cursed as his body stumbled a bit and paused a moment to regain his balance. His mind was reeling. "He took us to Coruscant?? That filthy no-good traitor!"

Xavier flinched away from the irate captain. "Sir?"

Han shook his head in disgust. "What's the point of getting me away from Fett if he's just going to turn me back to the Imps??" The smuggler smacked a furious fist against the wall. 

Xavier shook his head in fearful confusion, "I don't understand..."

Captain Solo angerly paced the small room, his eyes darting around furiously. He didn't seem to hear the young man. "Right to the heart of the Empire!! Is there no limit to what Lando will do for a credit?" 

Xavier's mind raced. _What was this guy going on about?_ "But sir-"

Han ran a frustrated hand through his hair, his glare pointed accusingly up at the ceiling. "To think I trusted him!"

Xavier took an unsteady step towards the irate smuggler. "But Captain Solo," he said, his hands raised defensively. "It's okay. There _are_ no more Imperials."

Han froze. The last words of the young man finally penetrating through his angry haze. He slowly turned towards the anxious young man. "What?"

"The Empire was defeated over six years ago." 

The smuggler was very still. His chest heaved as he fought to get his erratic breathing under control. Xavier mistakenly took Solo's silence as a good sign. He even smiled, "see? So it's fine."

Han felt the blood drain from his face as Xavier's words sunk in. He grabbed a desperate hold of the bunk as he tried to steady himself. "Six years?" he gasped.

"Yeah." The young man beamed good-naturedly, oblivious to the sting of his words. "Where have you been?"

Han Solo felt numb. His mind was swimming as he gazed vacantly at the floor. "I don't know," he whispered softly.

Six Years! And who knew how much longer than that he had actually been gone. A lot could happen in that time. A lot *did* happen in that time-apparently. His mind flashed to the princess. _Leia..._ Han swallowed. He could feel his stomach tighten in fear. But Leia was fine. She was _safe_. He remembered Lando saying that much. That was really the most important thing....but *where* was she? Han's heart clenched with dread.

And who was she with? 

Han suddenly looked up at Xavier with alarm. "I gotta get out of here," he announced.

The young man opened his mouth to protest, "but you can't. I mean I-you're not allowed."

Han glared at him in disbelief. "I'm not _allowed_?" The captain took a step towards Xavier, his stature suddenly seeming somewhat menacing to the young man. "And who, exactly, is going to stop me?" He shot Xavier an incredulous look, "you?"

"No, I-" Xavier could feel his heart pounding in his ears. It was almost loud enough to drown out the sound of his own voice. The young man took tentative step back from the angry smuggler. "Please, just wait 'til General Calrissian comes back. And then you can go and do whatever."

Han's brows shot up at the word 'general'. He let out a derisive snort. "_General_ Calrissian? Are you kiddin' me? _General_?? Lando?" Han shook his head incredulously, "I'm out of it for a little while and....." He almost had to laugh. The idea of Lando Calrissian serving in any military was too ridiculous to even comprehend. 

Xavier straightened. He found Captain Solo's flippant attitude towards the great general disrespectful. "General Calrissian was a key part of the rebellion's eventual victory over the Empire." The young man crossed his arms, trying not to wince at the shakiness of his own voice.. "He is to be admired for what he accomplished. Lando Calrissian is a real hero."

Han gave an angry snort.. "_Hero_??" He said the word like it was a curse.

Xavier inwardly cringed as he watched the indignation slowly build up in the ex-smuggler. He usually knew better than to speak up to people like Han Solo. Suddenly Xavier wished he could physically grab back the words that he had uttered and shove them back down his throat. But of course, it was too late for that.

Han exhaled slowly, trying to keep some control over the rage seething within him. He gave the kid a cool stare. "A 'key part' of their victory," he spat Xavier's words back into this face. "Is that what you said?" 

Xavier swallowed nervously. He didn't even bother to answer.

"Well let me just tell you something-_kid_," Solo thrust an angry finger into the young man's face, "you're best friend Calrissian also played a 'key part' in me spending force only knows how much time in a slab of carbonite!"

Xavier's brows crinkled in confusion, his mouth hanging open as if about to protest. But no words came out. Han nodded excitedly. "That's right. Your little buddy turned me over to Darth Vader himself."

Xavier shook his head, his eyes wide with denial. That wasn't possible. The General had done so much for the rebellion. The mere idea that he could help out the Empire in *any* way was completely unfathomable to the young man. "No," he stammered, "he wouldn't do that."

"Oh really?"

"He-he's a good man..." but the argument died in his throat. _Was Captain Solo telling the truth?_

Han curled his lip disdainfully at the young man. "Believe what you want, kid." He calmly nudged Xavier aside. "I don't really care." The captain hastily pushed his way out of the med room and headed for the exit ramp. "Thanks for all your help," he called behind him, as he palmed the ramp open.

Xavier stood there speechless. Malcolm was going to be furious at him for letting Solo get away. But even with the threat of his angry boss on his mind, he could not summon the strength to go after the brooding smuggler. He wouldn't even know how to stop him.

And it wasn't until Han Solo made it out into the open streets of Coruscant, that he realized he had absolutely no idea where to go. 


	11. Chapter Eleven

While You Were Gone--Chapter Eleven

Lando smacked a furious palm against the Princess' apartment door. "Dammit! Where is she??"

Malcolm raised a skeptical eyebrow, "I thought you said this Princess was a friend of yours."

Lando looked at the older man, "she is," he said defensively.

"Really?" Malcolm gestured towards the closed door. "Then where is she? I would suspect that if the two of you were really so close then she would at least have the courtesy to welcome you when you arrive on planet." Malcolm smirked, "especially since you called her in advance and told her you were coming."

Lando turned to the door, a confused expression on his face. "Maybe she forgot," he offered lamely.

Malcolm chuckled. "Maybe." He shook his head in amusement, "or maybe this _princess_ had better plans."

The ex-general's shoulders slumped in defeat. "I don't know....I *told* her it was important...."

The older man sighed impatiently, his mirth fading. "Well, I do hope you have a back up plan Calrissian. We still have the little matter of the bill, which I don't intend on overlooking."

Lando gave a small resigned nod. "I know," he sighed, "I'll figure out something. We'll find her."

********

The Princess wasn't hiding. She was simply at the Coruscant City Park enjoying that promised outing with her son. And it certainly was a beautiful day for it.

Leia sat on the smooth bench and closed her eyes as a warm breeze blew across her face. The air was sweet and comfortable and the sky was clear. It seemed like even the smog of Coruscant had decided to give it's residents a break today. It was the perfect afternoon to spend in the park. Leia was glad now that the little boy had been so insistent about going this morning. At first she had been reluctant to take the day off of work, but Bailey had reminded her that she _promised_ to do something special with him. Besides, school was letting out early for the end of the year. The princess couldn't say no. _Leave it to a six year old to never forget a thing_ she thought with a smile. Well, Leia wasn't going to let him down again. She called Mon Mothma and simply told her she wasn't coming in. She figured that after the week she just had, she deserved it anyway. 

Leia smiled contently as the sound of Bailey's giggling drifted over to her. 

"Hey Momma!" He called gleefully, "watch this!"

Leia peaked open an eye to see her son dangling happily from the play bars. She winced as he swung his weight and leapt down to the ground. His sneakers hit the ground with a soft thud as his body folded into a crouch. "Honey," she warned nervously, "be careful!"

Bailey just smiled at her proudly from his position on the ground. "Didja see that? Wasn't that just like Uncle Luke?"

Leia grinned inspite of herself. "Yes, it sure was."

Bailey sprinted back up to his feet with enthusiasm. "Great! I'm gonna do it again!"

Leia opened her mouth to protest, but another voice called out instead "Hey Leia!"

The Princess turned her head to see her brother striding confidently towards her. _Amazing timing, as usual._Leia thought as she offered him a guarded smile. She was a little nervous about Luke's sudden appearance. Surely he was going to question her about why she hadn't been returning his calls. And what could she tell him? That she felt awkward about that afternoon in her office? 

Because she did.

Leia felt so transparent now. As if every action she did Luke would now be watching with new eyes. Especially where Simon was concerned. Luke knew. He knew that she was an unfaithful wife. That she may live with her husband, but her heart and mind was always with Han. Leia was ashamed. Luke may have said he understood, but she did not. It was wrong. _She_ was wrong and now she didn't want to face her brother. The one person who truly knew how awful and weak she really was.

And Leia was also dreading the idea that he might make her talk about Han again. Or ask her about her dreams. No, she most definitely did not want to talk about _those_ anymore.

"Leia," Luke repeated calmly as he now stood over her, "I have been trying to reach you."

Leia gave him her most innocent look. "Oh, really?"

"I've left several messages," he said patiently as he took a seat next to her, "Don't tell me you didn't get any of them."

The princess sighed in resignation. "Yes, I got them." She smiled in apology, "I'm sorry. It's just been so hectic with work and everything. I was going to call you tonight."

Luke raised a doubtful eyebrow but didn't press it. "Well, at least I've found you now. We need to talk." He took a steadying breath. "About Han."

Leia tensed, hey eyes straying to her six year old son. Bailey had found a playmate in a young Rodian, and they were busying themselves by climbing the wrong way up a slide. Relieved that he was fine--and out of earshot--she turned back to Luke. "I don't think there's really anything to say."

Luke gave a small smile, his eyes shining slightly brighter. "Oh, but there is."

This is exactly what Leia was hoping to avoid. A rehash of their last conversation. Or maybe her brother was going to press her into searching her emotions. Or do some weird force trance to give her closure with Han. Whatever he had planned Leia was definitely not in the mood for it. She stood up suddenly, her head shaking. "If this is about the other day," she said with a rush, "then I don't think you should worry about it."

"No, I-"

"Because I was just being overly emotional," Leia continued, her voice ringing with a certain urgency. It was as if she couldn't end this conversation fast enough. "I was just overworked and I-I said things I didn't mean." She turned back to Luke and gazed down at him. Her voice sounded firm and light, but her eyes betrayed a certain sadness. "I'm okay, really," she said softly.

Luke shook his head. He reached out to grab the hand at her side. "No, Leia. I'm not here to talk about that." He gave her a small squeeze and pulled her gently back down to the bench. "Although," he continued, "that doesn't mean I think what you just told me is entirely true."

"Luke-"

He held up a hand to silence her. "But I'm really not here about that."

Leia shook her head in confusion. "But you said it was about Han."

"It is." Luke took a deep breath. "It's kind of complicated, but I need you to just listen to me."

Leia nodded slowly, her expression curious.

"Leia," he said seriously, his blue eyes now gazing intently at her. "The other night I was in a Jedi trance. Meditating."

The princess tensed, her gaze straying to her lap. She attempted pull her hand away, but Luke held onto it firmly. He gave it another squeeze. "Just listen for a moment." Leia finally looked back up at him. "I was meditating," he continued, "when I felt something in the force. A presence."

"A presence?"

"Yes," Luke exhaled. "It was the force energy of someone I had not felt in several years." The Jedi swallowed, his blue eyes widening slightly. "Leia, it was Han. I felt him."

Leia shook her head, uncomprehending. "I don't understand."

"In the force. I felt his life energy."

"What?" The princess looked at her brother with confusion. "I don't get it. You mean like you feel Ben Kenobi?" 

"No, no. Not like Ben." Luke could feel his sister's hand clenching nervously beneath his. "This wasn't the same as someone who had become _one_ with the force." He shook his head slightly, his eyes gazing inward as he relived the remarkable moment in his mind. "No," he finally continued softly, "this was the energy of one who was still very much alive."

Leia gasped, "what?" This time she did pull her hand away.

"Leia," Luke said with remarkable calmness, "I believe Han is alive."

The princess stood up abruptly. Her body was rigidly straight as she turned in the direction of her son. "Bailey!" she called towards the slide, "time to go!"

"Leia," Luke said, his voice raising, "didn't you just hear what I said?"

She looked down at him coolly, her mouth a firm line. "Yes," she answered tightly, "you had some force vision or something and I-" Leia's voice began to break and she took a steadying breath, "I really have to get going. Lando's coming. I completely forgot."

Luke stood up and gently grabbed his sister's arm. "No, we have to talk about this. It's important."

But Leia had turned away again. "Bailey! I said come on!"

Bailey could hear his mother calling him, but he tried to block out her voice. He concentrated on peering around the park from his vantage point on top of the slide. The Rodian fidgeted nervously behind him. < Isn't that your mom calling you? > 

Bailey dismissed him impatiently. "Shhh! Yeah, I know."

< But I think she wants you to go now. > 

Bailey shielded his eyes with a small hand, his head turning slowly as he continued to scope out the area. "Yeah, but we can't leave yet. It would be too soon."

< What? > 

Bailey shook his head in annoyance. "If we leave now we'll miss him. And then this whole trip here would be for nothing." 

The Rodian's antennae's twitched with confusion. < Huh? Miss who? > 

"My daddy."

The princess bit her lip in frustration. "Look at that," she said in exasperation, her arm motioning towards the slide, "I know he can hear me!"

"Leia," Luke couldn't suppress the urgency in his voice. "You can't just ignore this. It's serious. Listen to me." His hand was on her arm again.

Leia turned to him, her voice hushed. "No," she snapped, "you listen to me." She pulled her arm out of his light grip. "I am having a hard enough time right now with everything. I don't need this on top of it."

"What? But-"

"No! You can't just come to me with your 'force' and tell me things about Han..." Leia blinked furiously as she felt the sting of tears coming on. "Play on my emotions just because you have a 'feeling'. Did you even think of how I might react to this?" She sniffed angerly, frustrated with her show of emotion. She continued, her voice softer but still shaky, "Just don't do this to me Luke. Okay?" She gave him a pleading look, her eyes shiny with tears. "Please?"

"Leia, I-"

But Leia was turning away again, her attention diverted back to the slide. "Bailey! I said now!" The princess marched off to retrieve her son. She didn't even look back.


	12. Chapter Twelve

While You Were Gone--Chapter Twelve

Han Solo was walking aimlessly. His mind still felt numb with shock and his body continued to fight off the after effects of hibernation sickness. He looked around at his surroundings cautiously, casting furtive glances over his shoulder every few moments. Han had not been to Coruscant since the years when he was smuggling, and he couldn't squelch the automatic paranoia that this city provoked in him. 

But what that kid had said was true. There was not a single stormtrooper to be seen anywhere. In a city which had once been off-limits to non-humans, there were now aliens of every race roaming the streets. It seemed that in the past six years the imperial presence had really been completely eradicated. Han had mixed feelings about this revelation. It was wonderful that the Empire was no longer, but the further implications of this news made him feel even more ill than the hibernation sickness.

Six years! Han took a deep breath, fighting hard against a depression he could feel beginning to envelope him. He was surprised at how nice the air felt in his lungs. Well, he had gone a long time without it. Han peaked at the people around him, careful not to make eye contact. Every face was unrecognizable. Every alien and human a stranger. Suddenly his mind flashed to Chewie. _Where was he?_ He wondered if he was still with the 'Falcon'. There had to be a way he could contact him.

Without thinking, Han turned a corner and followed a cement path into a lightly wooded area. He walked along it blindly, his mind elsewhere as he made his way. What should he do now? He supposed that maybe leaving Lando's ship had been a bit too impulsive. Han may be completely pissed off at the guy, but at least he _knew_ him. And of course, Lando could probably tell him where to find Chewie and Leia. Han stopped abruptly. For once it was the thought of being _alone_ that disturbed him more than anything else. He shook his head in disbelief at this revelation and leaned his elbows up on a metal railing. It overlooked a small fountain. Behind him, through a line of tall bushes, he could faintly make out the sounds of some children playing. 

Han rubbed his face tiredly, his glazed eyes barely noticing the beautiful view in front of him. Like the rest of the city, the park was suspended several hundred feet above the ground level of the planet. Han Solo usually despised this city, but today the skies had cleared and the effect of the sun tilting through the clouds was actually quite nice. Not that he was paying too much attention to it. His thoughts were too troubled to be easily taken in by a pretty view.

He should find Chewie. Han swallowed. And Leia too. But Chewie first. The wookiee would have his ship, he reasoned, and he could fill him in on all that he had missed. Maybe prepare him for the princess.

Han didn't know where that last thought had come from, but he knew it was the real reason he wanted to meet with his friend first. Chewie would be thrilled to see him. He knew that without a doubt. There were no complications there. But with Leia it was different. She had loved him once, that was true. But he loved her _still_. And while to him it felt like only yesterday they were together, for Leia it had literally been years.

It was certainly more than enough time for her to find love with someone else.

Han could feel his stomach tighten painfully, another bout of nausea rising in him. This time he knew it wasn't the hibernation sickness. _You are getting so soft._ He couldn't believe how he was allowing all these thoughts bother him so easily. _Where was the Han Solo who didn't let anybody get to him? Where did he go, huh?_ The ex-smuggler blew out a resigned sigh. Han guessed that that guy had gone down with the Death Star, when he had gone back to bail out a farmboy, a princess, and their 'lost' cause.

Han slammed the railing in frustration before throwing his head in his hands. _Yeah, well now what?_

"Bailey! Time to go!"

The voice faintly rang out behind him, the familiar timbre of it causing the hairs on the back of his neck to stand. Han's head flew up with a start, the breath suddenly knocked out of him. That voice. The breeze had carried the sound to him and it had been slightly distorted, but even still. He knew that voice.

"Bailey, I said come on!"

There it was again. Han couldn't move. He could hear his pulse pounding out an erratic tempo in his ears. He turned around. It had come from the play area. There was that line of bushes blocking him from having a complete view, but he could make out the vague outline of a slide. Two children, --one alien, one human--were standing at the top. Their small heads barely visible above the tall greenery. The human boy almost appeared to be staring at him.

But that voice. _Leia._

He was being ridiculous. It couldn't be her. What were the chances? It was impossible. _And since when have you ever played the odds, Solo?_ Han would just take a look. He just wanted to see for himself.

The smuggler stepped tentatively towards the slide, a full view still being impeded by the healthy foliage growing infront of it. His breath was coming out in shaky spurts. _Why am I so nervous??_

As Han approached the play area, he was able to make out more detail through the gaps between all the leaves. The park was also equipped with a sandbox, swings and play bars. There were a few other children running about; their parents casting them quick glances from above datapads or from the midst of conversations on comlinks.

Han's gaze stopped on one particular couple. They were standing by a bench, the man lightly holding the woman's arm. They seemed to be arguing. The woman's back was to him, and she was blocking him from having any decent view of her partner.

Han squinted. There was something about her. The curve of her back, the way wisps of her hair fell along the nape of her neck. Something about the way she was carrying herself.

Han held his breath. The woman was pulling away from the man. She turned towards him.

Han gasped and he took an unsteady step backwards. His mind was suddenly reeling. 

_Leia!_

Han marveled at the sight of her, and he let out a shaky breath. Even with the years that had since passed, she looked every bit as stunning as when he had last seen her. Her hair was longer. But her skin appeared as milky smooth as he remembered. Her eyes still that same deep brown. Oh, force! How he used to be able to stare into them. Get _lost_ in them. _Gods, she was still so beautiful!_

And she was walking with dogged determination in his direction. Her frantic pace causing her light summer robes to press against her, accentuating her petite form. But she didn't see him. Not yet. The density of the green bushes he stood behind prevented it.

Han felt rooted to the spot. He desperately wanted to run up to her. Embrace her. Touch her. Kiss her. But he couldn't move. _What's wrong with you?? Go to her! That's your princess!_ Han swallowed. He was being a coward. _It was Leia!_ Wasn't it just yesterday that the two of them had sat so closely onboard the 'Falcon' together, talking comfortably about this, that and any other thing? Making each other laugh with their most embarrassing stories? Comparing childhood memories? Although, Han remembered with a twinge of regret, he had been more guarded in that area than her. 

Han's mouth felt dry.

And what about all the times they would sojourn to his cabin. All those long afternoons in his bed, exploring every intimate part of each other. One of them always joking before-hand about making sure Threepio was switched off before they got caught doing something _really_ embarrassing. 

They had been so close. So easy with each other then. And it all seemed so startlingly fresh in his memory. How could it _not_ have been just yesterday? Or the day before? The feel of her and their time together was emblazoned on his brain. And even though it had been a long time for her, she would have to remember some of it. It would have to still mean *something* to her. Although maybe not as much.

He would go to her. Han took a deep breath, desperate to summon up some of that courage for which he had once been so famous for. _Yeah, hot shot. You don't seem so brave now, do ya?_ But he was. And he would prove it. Dammit! He _loved_ her. A wave of fiery determination swelled up within him and suddenly Han didn't care if there was someone else in her life. It didn't matter anymore. That was _his_ princess and he would fight anyone who got in his way. She had made him so happy. And he knew that he had made _her_ happy. No one was going to take this away from him. Or her. Not after it had taken them so long to find it.

Han took a few unsteady steps around the thick bushes, his resolve strengthening with each passing moment. This was it. He was ready. Han opened his mouth to call out to her, but his voice immediately died in his throat.

"Leia, wait a second!" A dark figure had run to her side.

It was Luke Skywalker. 

Han had been so taken with the princess that he had failed to notice who the other person was before now. And as he watched his friend gently pull Leia to a stop, he was surprised to see how much the kid had changed. Well, he didn't know if 'kid' was the proper term for him anymore. Luke had grown up. A lot. The boyish roundness of his face had thinned out, causing his features to become more pronounced and mature looking. And he was leaner, stronger looking. The kid was in shape. 

And right now he was talking to Leia. His hand was back on her arm and she was looking up at him. Intensely. Han swallowed. They looked close. Real close. He could feel his stomach tighten as his once-steely resolve melted away. Watching them, Han could see that there was definitely an intimacy between them that hadn't been there before. Their relationship had completely changed. It was obvious. Even in the few moments Han watched the two of them conversing he could see this. Back on Hoth, Luke had been a love-struck farmboy who would practically trip all over himself trying to talk to the princess. Now look at him! His hand resting casually on her arm like that. And he was looking straight into her. No more of those uneasy shy glances he used to throw at her. Now he looked at her unabashed. With a confidence Han always suspected the kid had, but had barely ever shown. Not in the way that Han had at any rate. 

And he still loved Leia. Han could tell that too. But now it seemed like the two of them were on a more equal footing. There was a balance. And this unnerved the smuggler, because that could only mean one thing. Couldn't it?

Han could feel the muscles in his jaw tighten as he watched the two of them. Leia looked upset. Her round eyes seemed on the verge of tears, and her back had stiffened-in that same way it would when _he_ used to anger her. Now it was Luke who seemed to be making her mad. _Lover's spat?_ Han couldn't deny that he felt a fleeting rush of satisfaction at the two of them fighting. _Good._ But he quickly dismissed the thought as disloyal. After all, this was _Luke_. He couldn't wish the worst on him, even if it meant getting Leia for himself. He respected and liked the kid too much for that. But still. He may have loved Luke like a brother, but could he really just step aside for him? 

Han turned his eyes back to the princess. Just looking at her, standing there, her cheeks pinkened with emotion--it provoked another wave of warm memories to wash over him. And Han knew. _No way._ He couldn't just give her up. 

Leia curled a loose strand of hair behind her ear as she turned her face in his direction. Her head tilted upwards, which allowed the light to catch the tears on her cheeks. "Bailey, " she called, her voice shaking. She was looking up at the slide. "Honey, we really have to go." 

_Who? What?_

Han followed her gaze to the top of the slide. He felt his breath catch in his throat. Just over the top of the green bush he could make out the small face of the human boy. 

And the boy was staring right down on him.

Han felt a chill run up his spine, but he didn't know why the boy's unwavering gaze unnerved him so much. 

"Bailey, do you _hear_ me??"

Bailey tightened his grip on the railing of the slide as he gazed down at the tall dark haired man. It had alarmed him when the man had looked directly up at him like that. He knew he had been caught staring, but even still, he just couldn't turn away. _Look at his pants!_ They were just like the ones 'Space Racer' wore. _And the boots!_ Only pilots wore boots like those. And if there was one thing that Bailey had learned from Uncle Chewie above all else, it was that his father had been a pilot. And not just any pilot, but the best. 

Bailey was staring down at his daddy. He just knew it.

Leia was losing her cool. She clenched her hands into tight fists as she stared up at her son. Even with all her diplomatic training, the princess was having a very difficult time fighting the urge to suddenly scream at the top of her lungs. _Why wasn't the boy listening to her??_

Leia felt a warm hand on her shoulder. Luke. She tensed.

"Leia, I'm sorry." He said softly. "I really didn't mean to upset you."

"I'm _not_ upset!!" Leia winced. She sounded ridiculous even to her own ears. Like Bailey in the middle of one of his tantrums. She took a steadying breath, "I'm okay. I'm fine." Leia gestured up at the slide. "I just need to get him so I can go home. Lando's probably banging down my door by now."

Luke gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze and turned towards the slide. "Bailey, come on down now." He said this in such a soothing voice that Leia suddenly felt like she had been half-crazed in comparison. She reddened in embarrassment. _Well, there goes that 'mother of the year' award._

Bailey threw a quick over his shoulder towards his uncle. He hadn't realized that Luke had met them at the park. "In a second!"

"No, you've had enough 'seconds'," he replied calmly, "your mother wants to leave. Let's go."

Bailey tugged on his lip in frustration. The rodian was giving him a questioning look. < Don't you listen to your parents? > 

The boy shook his head. "That's not my dad," he said in annoyance, "That's my uncle."

The rodian shrugged. < Whatever. He's still a grown up. > 

Bailey sighed. He didn't want to make Momma and Uncle Luke mad, but this was _important_. _Super_ important. They would soon understand. They would soon see. Bailey suddenly felt a thrill course through him at the thought of his real daddy. Uncle Chewie had told him all about him. His real daddy was a space pilot! And not only that, but he was once the fastest in the galaxy. Even faster than 'Space Racer'! And soon he would actually get to meet him. Maybe even now. 

Bailey shot the rodian a cocky smile, and leaned back over the railing. "Guess what," he boasted with pride, "My real dad's a space pilot and-" He faltered. The man he had been staring at was walking away. And fast. Bailey could feel his stomach clench in despair and he tightened his grip on the railing. _No, don't go!_ He wanted to scream after him, yell at him to stop. But he couldn't find his voice. _Where are you going? You can't leave yet!_

"Bailey," his mother was right below him now. Her voice was stern. Bailey knew that this was her angry voice. The one she used right before he was in big trouble. He tried to fight back the tears as he gazed down at her mournfully. _Why'd Daddy leave? Doesn't he like us?_

Leia blinked. The boy suddenly looked so pale and withdrawn. Suddenly he was so *quiet*. He looked down on her with eyes that were wide and filled with sadness. He hadn't been that way a few minutes earlier. _What happened?_ Leia softened her tone, "Honey, just get down," she requested. Her voice was almost a whisper.

Bailey nodded solemnly. He pushed out his bottom lip, and his little chin began quaking uncontrollably. The boy looked on the verge of tears. 

Leia shot a quick glance at the rodian, fleetingly wondering if the alien bad been teasing her son. But one look at the young one's expression immediately cleared him of any suspected wrong-doing. He looked just as confused as she felt.

Luke came up beside her. "Come on Bailey," he said gently, "let's go home." The boy slowly climbed his way down the ladder. He still didn't say a word. When he was standing on the ground again, Leia ran her hands gently through his hair. "What's wrong, sweetie?"

Bailey just looked up at her silently, his shoulders slumped in defeat.

This time he knew not to tell her.


	13. Chapter Thirteen

While You Were Gone--Chapter Thirteen

Lando ran a nervous hand through his hair as he walked through the hangar. Malcolm followed closely at his heals. "I just don't know," he said confused, "we've been all over the place. And if she didn't even show up for work today..."

Malcolm tried to squelch the twinge of irritation he felt, but it came out in his voice anyway. "Listen Calrissian," he sneered, "why don't we forget about the _royalty_ for a moment and find another one of Solo's friends to pay off the debt." The man snorted, "if the smuggler even *has* any other friends."

Lando didn't miss the cutting edge in the trader's voice. He knew that Malcolm was skeptical about this whole Princess Leia thing. Heck, if he hadn't seen the two of them together on Cloud City himself he would've never believed it either. Han Solo was never known for the exceptional company he kept. But Han *did* have a lot of friends, and Lando resented the older man implying otherwise. "As a matter of fact," Lando said in annoyance, "Han has a lot of people who would help him out. And I know just who to go to next."

They were approaching Calrissian's ship. "Oh yeah?" Malcolm asked doubtfully, "who?"

Lando palmed the ramp open with a smack of his hand. "Luke Skywalker."

Malcolm let out a loud chuckle. "Luke Skywalker? The Jedi Master?" The older man shook his head, unable to hide the grin on his face. "Calrissian, you're losing your credibility fast." He snorted, "next time aim a little lower, tell me he knows the Chief-of-State or something."

Lando shot the man a sharp glare before climbing up the ramp. It had been a long day and he was in no mood for Malcolm's sarcastic jabs. They had spent the entire day combing the city of Coruscant looking for Leia and had very little luck. Even Chewbacca was proving to be elusive. Lando was tired and he didn't have the energy to trade childish insults with the sand trader. "I don't want you to worry about my credibility," he said as he entered the ship, "I'll prove that just fine when I pay you off. Okay?"

Malcolm answered with a derisive grumble. Lando didn't even try to make out what he had said. "Hey Xavier," he called into the back room. "We're back!"

There was no response.

Lando approached the threshold of the med room. "Xavier?" 

The young man sat slumped on the empty cot, his head in his hands. Lando's brows shot up in concern. "Hey," he said, trying to keep the alarm out of his voice. He shot a quick glance around the room. "Where's Han?"

Xavier looked up at him, a pained expression on his face. "He left," he answered simply.

"He what?!" Malcolm was right over Calrissian's shoulder. "How could you let him go?!"

Xavier looked at his boss, his tone one of surprising indifference. "Don't get mad, sir."

The older man could feel his eyes bulging in disbelief he steadied himself against the frame of the doorway. "Don't get _mad_??" He pushed past the general and made his way over to the cot. "Tell me, Xavier, how would you like me to react??" He gestured angerly behind him, "You just let our credits walk out that door!! Now what are we going to do??"

Xavier gripped the metal frame of the bed tightly, his eyes widening in fear. He tried to swallow his nervousness as he replied, "he was upset. He wanted to leave. I-I asked him to stay-"

"Oh-oh!" Malcolm interrupted, his head tilted up at the ceiling in disbelief. "You _asked_ him to stay." He threw his arms up in exasperation, "well at least you did all you possibly could."

Lando came up behind the irate trader and calmly pulled the older man away. "Let's just relax here for a second." Calrissian was amazed at how composed his own voice sounded. Inside he felt like a frantic mess. "Maybe we can figure out where he went." He turned his attention back to the young man on the cot and gave him a tight smile. "Now Xavier," he said trying to keep his tone under control, "why don't you tell us exactly what happened."

Xavier shot Malcolm another nervous glance before looking back up at the general. He let out a shaky breath. "He woke up."

"Yes," Malcolm snorted from the far wall, "we gathered as much."

Lando shot him a glare of warning and looked back at the young man. "Okay," he said smoothly, "then what happened?"

Xavier's gaze strayed to his lap, his hands picked at the mattress nervously. "He woke up and he-he-" The young man risked another quick glance at the general before his eyes retreated back to the ground. "He remembered things."

Lando straightened. "What 'things'?"

"I don't know--everything" Xavier's hands became more furious with the mattress. "Darth Vader, the carbon freezing-" The young man turned his head back up at the general, his gaze suddenly steady. "_Everything_."

Lando's mouth felt dry and he took an unsteady step backwards. He knew this moment was inevitable, but he wished he could have had a chance to talk to Han Solo himself. To apologize. Of course, taking seven years of someone's life is not something you could gloss over with a simple 'I'm sorry.' Lando pressed his eyes shut in despair. _Han must be floored right now._ He let out a shaky sigh. _It's all my fault._

"Sir?" Xavier's voice was barely audible in the tension filled room. "Is it true what he said?"

Lando opened his eyes and stared absently at the wall above the young man's head. His thoughts were racing at a blinding speed through his mind. "What?" He asked, his voice strained.

"Did you really turn him over to-" Xavier faltered, his voice lowering, "to Darth Vader?"

Lando nodded numbly. "Yeah," he said softly, "it's true."

"What?" Malcolm's tone was incredulous, "are you kiddin' me?" He was standing behind the general again. "How could you do that? I thought you were _friends_ with this person."

Lando turned on him, his tone instantly defensive. "I was!" He shook his head. "I _am_," he amended. "It's complicated. I didn't _want_ to do it."

Malcolm crossed his arms in disgust. "I can't believe you," he glared accusingly, "_Darth Vader_?? And I thought I had done some pretty low things in my life, but this..."

"It was the Empire! They were going to destroy everything--my whole city," Lando's voice raised in desperation, "I had no choice!"

"No choice," the older man snorted in disdain, "so you sell out a friend."

Lando pushed him away and stormed out of the med room. "You weren't there!" He called behind him, "you don't know what the Empire's like!"

Calrissian kicked a wall in angry frustration, cursing angerly before letting himself fall into a large seat. He could pretend to be mad at Malcolm all he wanted, but he knew that the older man was right. Lando was an awful, horrible person. He deserved to hear all those things and a whole lot worse. The truth of it was, that Malcolm hadn't said anything that Lando hadn't all ready told himself a million times. He had sold out a friend. And in his circles you just didn't do that.

Lando sighed miserably and ran a hand over his face. He could sense Malcolm in the room before he even looked up.

The older man stood over him. "I think it's quite presumptuous of you to assume that I don't know what the Empire is like." His voice was lower, but there was an angry edge to it. "After all, you've been to Tatooine. You've seen first-hand what they did to my home planet."

Lando winced. That was right, he had forgotten. Tatooine was now a shadow of its former self due to Imperial influence.. That was why these two men were so desperate to get off and get these credits in the first place. They were not really bad people. Just desperate. 

Lando looked up at the man apologetically. He swallowed. "Listen Malcolm, I didn't-"

"Well, well well," a familar voice boomed from the entry ramp, cutting Lando off mid-sentence. The slurred words seemed to reverberate throughout the small ship. "Look's like the gang's all here."

A stunned Lando turned his head to see the familar outline of his Correllian friend slumped against the doorway. A half-empty bottle of whiskey was clutched in his right hand. "Han," he managed to gasp, "you're back."

Han curled his lip in contempt. "Observant as always, Lando." He stumbled into the room, his unfocused gaze flicking over to Malcolm suspiciously. "Who's this guy?"

The older man straightened. "I'm Mandell Malcolm." He held out a hand, "I've seen you before in Mos Eisley, Captain Solo. But it's nice to finally be introduced."

Han smirked and pushed the offered hand away. "Yeah, well nice to meet ya." The smuggler looked around the room, "Where's my little buddy?" He asked, his body swaying under its own weight. He looked around drunkenly before his gaze finally stopped on the doorway of the med room. Han grinned sardonically at the cowering young man. "There you are!" He stumbled over to Xavier and threw a clumsy arm around his shoulders. "This kid here," he announced with mock affection, "is one of my last friends left." He tapped the neck of his bottle lightly against the young man's chest. "I just wanted to thank you." Han turned back to Lando and Malcolm. "He was nice enough to let me leave earlier this afternoon and I really appreciate it."

Xavier looked strickened. He glanced nervously at Malcolm and the general, his eyes pleading.

Han continued on, drunkenly oblivious to the young man's discomfort. "Yeah, thank you for that. I had a very nice walk. It was very.." The smuggler's face twisted as he fought to find the right word. "_Educational_," he announced finally.

Xavier squirmed under the weight of the drunk man's arm. Lando's eyes flicked between the young man and Captain Solo. "Han," he said cautiously, "is everything all right?"

Han's face hardened. He pushed away from Xavier and stumbled over to the sitting general. "Is everything _all right_?" He snorted in disbelief, "Is that what you just asked me?"

"Han, I-"

"No Lando," he spat, an angry finger now pointed in the gambler's face. "Everything is _not_ 'all right." Han stepped back for a second, his body once again swaying off-balance. "I woke up this morning and found out years of my life are gone." He swung the whiskey bottle around as if to accentuate his point. "_Poof_! Gone."

Lando swallowed, his voice shaking, "Han, I am so sorry. I-"

"But it doesn't end there!" Han continued loudly, his tone ringing with feigned humor. "No, that's not all!" His voice was almost deafening in the small confines of the room. He took a small swig from the bottle, desperate to keep the pain at bay a little longer. Han wiped his mouth with the back of his sleeve. "No. My day got even _more_ interesting after that--if you can believe it." 

He glared down at Calrissian now, all pretense of joy gone. "I also discovered that not only have I lost my past," he said, his voice low and menacing, "but in the blink of an eye my entire future was destroyed too."

Lando stood up slowly, his palms held up defensively in front of him. "Han," he said softly, "I'm sure it's not as bad as--"

Han threw the bottle of whiskey forcibly against the wall, causing it to shatter with a loud smash. "Don't tell me it's not that bad!"

Xavier flinched in the background. His boss just looked on in stunned silence.

Han's angry gaze was unwavering, his mouth a snarl. His hands hung at his sides, and he clenched them into tight fists. "You took everything from me Lando! My whole life!"

"Han," Calrissian ventured nervously, his hands visibly shaking in front of him. "Don't do this. Come on, ol' buddy. I'm sure--"

Lando didn't even see the blow coming. One second he was standing infront of his enraged friend, the next he was sprawled on the floor clutching his throbbing jaw. He rubbed it tenderly, his mind too stunned to grasp what had just happened.

"I'm not your buddy," Han spat disdainfully from above him, his chest heaving. "Remember that."

Lando nodded dumbly. He blinked in an attempt to steady his shaky vision. He managed a weak "Okay," as he pushed himself off the floor.

The general managed to climb back into his seat, making sure to keep a wary eye on Solo. He wasn't sure if the smuggler was finished with him yet. But Han seemed a little calmer. He just stood in the middle of the room, fighting to catch his breath. The expression on his face pained as he stared absently down at the ground.

It was eerily quiet for a moment. Xavier and Malcolm traded nervous glances. Lando continued to rub at his sore jaw as he eyed his brooding friend. 

Han let out a shaky breath, the muscles in his cheeks clenching as he re-lived that scene in the park over again in his mind. Suddenly he felt more depressed than angry. He silently looked up at Lando. There was so much Han wanted to know. About Luke. About Leia. But he didn't even know where to start, and he was scared to know too much. Especially if it was going to be things he didn't want to hear. Finally Han found the courage to speak up. "How long have they been together?" He asked, his voice strangely soft in a room that still buzzed from the loud incident that just took place.

Lando gave him a questioning look. "Who?"

Han swallowed. "Leia..."

Lando's face softened in sympathetic understanding. Han had somehow found out about Simon. "Four years, I think."

Han nodded absently. "So are they-" he hesitated, "-is she happy?"

Lando shrugged, "I don't really know." He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, "to be honest, I really haven't seen her much over the years. I'm not exactly her most favorite person."

"But from what you have seen.....?" Solo's voice had a hitch of quiet desperation in it. It was something Lando had never heard in the cocky smuggler before. It threw him.

"Han," he began quietly, "Leia has not been truly happy in several years." Lando noticed Solo throw him a questioning glance. "And I know I'm to blame for that," he conceded. "But if you are asking me about her marriage, then I don't know what to tell you." The gambler ran a nervous hand through his hair. "Heck, I have never even met the guy."

"You should," Han mumbled distractedly, "he's a really good guy, actually."

Calrissian's eyebrows shot up in surprise, "you've met Simon?"

Han looked up at the gambler with a start, his eyes etched with confusion. "Simon?"

"Leia's husband," Lando answered, "isn't that who you meant?"

Han's mouth suddenly felt dry, the alcohol suddenly causing the room to spin. "What? But I thought-" He reached out a hand to steady himself, "what about Luke?"

"Luke?" Lando's tone was incredulous, "Luke Skywalker?"

"I saw them today," Han said, his tone dejected.. "In the park."

Lando shook his head, "yeah, maybe. But they aren't together." He let out a small chuckle inspite of himself. "I can _promise_ you there's nothing going on there."

Han felt a wave of relief rush through him. That changed everything then. If Leia wasn't with Luke then--but his thoughts faltered. There was still the boy. Bailey. Luke may not be his father, but that just meant Simon was. They would still be a family. And Han didn't want to break up a _family_. He knew what it was like first hand not grow up with one, he would be damned before he would ever be responsible for pushing that pain onto someone else. That was what had stopped him today. Seeing the little boy. _Leia's_ little boy.

Suddenly Han straightened as something Lando had said a few moments earlier drifted back to the front of his mind. "But wait a second-" Han said in a baffled tone. "If Luke and Leia aren't together..." His voice trailed off. He looked up at Lando in utter confusion, "you said Leia has only been with Simon for four years?"

Calrissian nodded. "Yes, that sounds about right."

"What? But then how-," Han ran an exasperated hand through his hair, trying to keep his thoughts straight in his alcohol-soaked brain. "Who does Bailey belong to?"

Lando opened his mouth, not sure whether he should really answer. He licked his lips nervously, aware of Solo's unwavering gaze. He took a steadying breath.

"You," he finally replied. 


	14. Chapter Fourteen

While You Were Gone--Chapter Fourteen

Simon leaned back in his seat and smiled with satisfaction. They had just announced that the landing coordinates were set and the ship would set down on Coruscant within the half-hour. It had been a long trip, but well worth it. He was able to accomplish quite a bit. And although he felt guilty admitting this to himself, it had also been nice to get away from home for a little while. Things had just been too tense as of late.

Simon gazed reflectively at the stars in the viewport. _Yes, it had indeed been wonderful to get away._ Have a break. Indulge in a little diversion here and there. And he _wouldn't_ feel guilty for feeling this way. Leia had pushed him to it. Why should he? How was he supposed to feel? Simon shook his head in disgust. What did it say about him as a husband that even after several years of marriage he couldn't compete with the memory of some low-class spice smuggler? A _criminal_ at that. It was enough to make his stomach turn.

Captain Han Solo. The name had hung over his marriage like a dark cloud. The memory of the man was an almost stifling presence. Especially these days.

Simon had tried to be a good sport about the whole thing. He had really _tried_. Particularly in the beginning. After all, he had known what he was getting himself into. It was obvious, even back then, that Leia was still hung up on the smuggler. He been aware of this from their very first meeting. Oh, she had always been very efficient in her work, and at political functions where he would see her, she was graceful and flawlessly diplomatic. Charming even. But although she laughed merrily and acted light hearted with the leaders of the galaxy, Simon had noted that her smiles never quite reached her eyes. But he had been immediately taken with her anyway. She was so beautiful, and he had great admiration for her strength and courage. Plus she was an Alderaanian princess. He had grown up with her on the holovids. She was a piece of home. And he loved her.

Not that it was easy to get her to love him in return. Simon had to really work at that. He had asked to escort her to dinner on several occassions, but she had kept turning him down. The princess insisted that she was too busy to have time to indulge in dining out. But Simon knew that wasn't necessarily true. For whenever she was not behind her desk or dazzling ambassadors, she was at home with her young toddler. _He_ was her life. 

It had taken some work, but eventually Simon had gotten the princess to accept his invitation for dinner. And to her surprise, Simon could tell, she actually had a good time. So he asked her out again, and again she had accepted. Simon was not completely oblivious, he knew that she still carried her grief for Solo like a heavy burden, but it didn't matter to him. He could make her laugh. He could make her smile. And eventually, he insisted, he would make her forget.

It hadn't been long before Simon proposed. He knew it was fast, but he had also known what he had wanted, so what was the point in waiting? True, Leia wasn't in love with him, not yet. But she would _learn_ to love him, he had told her. And he *already* loved Bailey. He would make a good father, and Simon had insisted to her that every boy needed a father. 

Leia had finally agreed and the two of them were married. It was a relatively small ceremony considering their social status, but the princess had insisted it be that way. She had just wanted a few friends and family. It wasn't to be a big deal. That was all fine with Simon. He just wanted her to be his wife, the rest of the details were not all that important to him. 

And so their marriage began. Under more difficult circumstances than most, considering that his new wife did not love him. Well, the princess _loved_ him, he was sure, but she was not _in_ love with him. Simon knew the difference. But that was okay. He had been patient, and for awhile there it seemed that his patience had paid off. 

Until a few months ago. 

In a gesture that he had sincerely thought would overjoy his wife, Simon had asked if he could formerly adopt Bailey. Then he would _officially_ be the boy's father. And isn't that what the princess had always wanted? A father for her son? 

Needless to say, Simon had been taken aback by Leia's less than enthusiastic response. Her face had tightened and she had answered with a simple, "no, I don't think that's really necessary."

"But I want to do it," he had argued, "I love Bailey. Let me be his father."

"You _are_ his father," she had replied. "What's a piece of paper got to do with it?" They had been cleaning up dinner at the time. Bailey was tucked away sleeping in his bed. 

"It would mean a lot to me," Simon had answered softly, "and I thought it would mean a lot to you too."

The princess' expression had softened at his response. "That's sweet Simon," she had said apologetically, "and I really do appreciate what you're trying to do, but-"

"Good, then let me do it." He had interrupted, his voice rising with excitement, "Let me adopt Bailey and then he could be my son in name too."

Leia had stiffened at this declaration and had shaken her head adamantly. "_No_," she had said with a steely resolve, "I _really_ don't want you to do that."

Simon had felt like he had been slapped in the face. _Of course_ he had realized with an overwhelming bitterness, _*Solo*_ It had been all about him. To her, Bailey was always going to be _his_ son and no one could ever take his place. Not even, Simon had thought with building resentment, the man who had helped _raise_ him for the past four years. This sudden awareness had caused an uncontrollable anger to rise in him. Simon was usually a very reserved man and his sudden need to lash out had surprised even him. But after several years, he had been unable to restrain his suppressed resentment any longer. He had virtually exploded. Said things he shouldn't have. 

Even now, the memory of his acidic words caused Simon to color with shame. 

"I cannot believe you are still carrying a torch for this guy, even after all these years," he had spat angerly at his wife. "Wake up Leia, take off the rose colored glasses. The man was a no good _criminal_."

The princess had stared at him in open mouthed shock. "How dare you-!" She had gasped angerly.

"No," he replied harshly, "how dare _you_. I have been nothing but loving to you over the years. I have taken care of your son. I have allowed you to keep that-that _wookiee_ around so he could follow us like a shadow--"

"Chewie's a member of this family, Simon!" She had retorted defensively.

"--And I have done so without complaint!" He had continued on, unable to stop himself now that his anger had been released. "Overall I think I have been very patient. Hell, I even allow that wookiee to elevate Solo to hero-like status, because I know how much the idea of it means to Bailey. But I refuse to come in second any longer."

Leia had shaken her head in denial, "you don't come in second!"

"I always have," Simon had replied evenly. "I'm not completely _oblivious_, Leia." His voice had lowered but had taken on an even nastier edge. "But what I don't get," he had said with venom in his voice, "is what is so damn special about the guy. What is it about him that all my years of loving you can't blot out? Tell me."

"Simon-" her voice had been pleading, "don't do this."

"No, I really need to know." His voice had softened, "I love you, Leia. I made a _commitment_ to you." He had given her a pointed look, "can you honestly say that _he_ would've done the same? That he even *loved* you?"

"Yes, I can," she had replied in almost a whisper.

Simon's eyebrows had risen in disbelief. "Really? Did he ever _tell_ you that?"

Leia had abruptly turned away, but not before Simon had seen the shine of tears in her eyes. He had immediately begun to feel a quick rush of shame at the sight of her sadness, that he had pushed this too far. But he couldn't stop himself. This was _necessary_ he had reasoned, she needed to get Han Solo out of her mind once and for all. It was so obvious to Simon that the smuggler wasn't worth it. She needed to see it too. He was only doing this for the sake of their marriage. Someday Leia would thank him for helping her see the light. 

Simon had taken her silent response as confirmation of what he had always suspected. "That's what I thought," he had said, unable to keep the guilty satisfaction out of his voice. 

"Go to hell," she had said with a stony coldness.

"What wonderful diplomacy, princess." Simon had ignored her sharp glare and continued on, "you know what I find so _fascinating_ about your undying devotion?"

Leia didn't respond. 

"It's that _every_ little rumor seems to confirm the fact that your man Solo was just about to take off from the rebellion anyway." He had been unable to help himself, "without you."

Leia had swallowed and glared at her husband with wide hurt eyes. "Shut up, Simon."

"It's really quite ironic," he had just kept pushing, "here you are, insistent on keeping Han Solo this boy's father. When, even had he lived, he probably wouldn't have been around anyway."

"You don't know that," she had insisted sharply.

"You're right," Simon responded with a cold knowing smile, "if he had actually found out you were pregnant he would have left a whole lot faster."

Simon winced now as he remembered how hard Leia had slapped him. Not that he could blame her. Looking back on the argument now, he realized that he had been completely out of line. He had even apologized profusely after that last comment; Leia's smack having knocked some sense into him. He was being so petty. So jealous. About a _ghost_. It was ridiculous. 

But the damage had been done. Their relationship had been strained ever since. Oh, he had apologized, and so had she, but there was now this unspoken thing between them. A cold rift that was going to take some time to fix. 

And Simon knew, with a twinge of guilt, that he had not been completely innocent in all this. Simon had never been a hundred percent faithful to his marriage, but Leia didn't have to know that. After all, he really did love her. He did. So what was the point of hurting her with stories of his occasional escapade? It really wasn't a big deal. He had always given more to the marriage than her anyway. So what if once-in-awhile another woman caught his eye. Could anyone really blame him? At least these women gave him their complete attention. He wasn't sharing them with anyone. Anyway, Simon was just being normal. He needed a little variety in his life. After all, he reasoned, didn't all men?

Besides, Leia would always be the main woman in his life. The others really didn't _mean_ anything. And that was more than he could say for her and her undying 'Solo-infatuation'.

Simon pushed aside these troubling thoughts before another wave of resentment could build up in him. He was getting off track here. Simon was going home now and he was going to fix things. Make them right. He loved the princess and he adored Bailey. They were his family.

Yes, Simon thought, his resolve strengthening. He would be home shortly now and everything would be all right. 

Simon was determined. Nothing would get in his way.

Not even the ghost of Han Solo.

********

"Honey, eat your vegetables. Don't just play with them."

Bailey looked up from his plate, his eyes sullen. "But I'm not hungry," he said flatly.

Leia gave her son a sympathetic smile. Her heart ached at the pain that was etched on his features. She just wanted to pull him into her lap and kiss away whatever was bothering him, but Bailey wouldn't respond to her. She couldn't even get the boy to admit that anything was wrong in the first place. But the princess knew there was, and she was concerned. "Just have a few bites then," she urged sweetly, "for me."

Bailey gave a despondent sigh and half-heartedly stabbed his fork into a green stalk. He didn't even bother with the usual gross-out faces he loved to torment her with. He just popped the vegetable into his mouth and chewed absently, his eyes cast sadly down on his plate. Bailey almost never passed up an opportunity to put on some theatrics, especially with Luke at the table as a captive audience. Something was definitely wrong.

Ever since they had gotten back from the park, the boy had been so withdrawn and somber. He had spent the couple of hours before dinner holed up in his room, with barely a sound, and that was so unlike him. When Leia had gone knocking on his door to see what was wrong, Bailey had told her dully that it was "nothing" and that he just wanted to be by himself for a little while. 

Now he sat at the dinner table, shoulders slumped, absently picking at his food. Leia shot Luke a worried look. He returned her glance with a comforting smile. He had a feeling he knew what was bothering the boy, but he knew he couldn't talk to his sister about it. Leia would find out eventually, of that he was sure. Luke turned to her son. "Bailey," he began cheerfully, "I bet you're real excited to be out of school for the season."

The boy shrugged indifferently. "I guess," he mumbled softly.

"So," Luke continued, undeterred by the child's lack of enthusiasm, "what fun stuff do you and Chewie have planned this year?"

"I don't know," Bailey stabbed another vegetable.

Leia gave her brother a grateful glance. She appreciated the effort. The princess decided to try another tactic. "Oooh, well isn't 'Space Racer' on the Holonet tonight?" She beamed at the boy in knowing anticipation, "I hear it's a new one too." Bailey flashed her a pained look. He gave another indifferent shrug, his expression darkening . Leia was taken aback by his response. _What did I say?_

"I don't feel like watching it tonight." He dropped his fork with an angry clink. "May I be excused now?"

Leia swallowed. "Sure," she answered with forced casualness in her voice. In reality she was getting beyond worried. Bailey was usually so easy-going, this dark mood was so out of character. The princess shot Luke another worried glance as her son slowly pushed himself away from the table. She didn't know what to do. Her son was in obvious pain and she couldn't even figure out _why_. Leia reached out and gently grabbed the boy by the arm as he tried to pass her. "Bailey, wait," she said with a mild firmness in her voice.

The child stopped and looked at her questioningly. "Honey," she pressed gently, "I want you to tell me what's wrong."

Bailey nervously reached for his lip. "Nothing," he insisted, "I'm just tired. I wanna go to bed."

Leia's brow furrowed in concern. "Are you feeling all right?" She had never seen the boy _volunteer_ to go to bed in his entire life. Usually the whole deal was an hour-long process which involved a lot of whining, bribing, and years of practiced diplomatic training. She reached out a pressed a hand against the boy's forehead. "You don't feel warm."

"I know," Bailey's eyes strayed to the floor, "I'm just sleepy. That's all."

"Honey," Leia forced a calmness into her voice, "if there's anything wrong--anything at all--you know you can always talk to me about it." She gave a weak smile of encouragement, "that's what mommies are for after all."

Bailey was silent for a moment. He gave her an appraising look, as if briefly considering whether he should come clean. Finally he just sighed and said, "I know, Momma. But nothing's wrong." His eyes flew back to his feet, "_really_."

Leia leaned back against her chair in resignation, her hand dropping from the boy's arm. "Well, okay then." She didn't know what else to say. The princess gave a defeated sigh. "Just remember to brush your teeth if you are really going to bed."

The boy nodded and headed towards his bedroom. As he made his way through the doorway of the kitchen he bumped into the furry bulk of Chewbacca. The wookiee growled a friendly greeting to the child and affectionately ruffled his hair. Bailey just offered a weak smile and pushed his way out of the kitchen without a word.

Chewie gave the princess a confused look, < what's the matter with him? > 

Leia stood up abruptly and began clearing the table. "I don't know," she said in a resigned tone. She gathered up a few plates, "Could you try talking to him Chewie? You might be able to get him to open up."

Chewbacca nodded in easy agreement. < Yes, certainly. Let me just wash off this engine grease. > He shook his head in affectionate annoyance. < The 'Falcon's' hyperdrive was acting up again. Sometimes I don't know why I still bother with the thing. > Chewie turned his back as he went to the sink. 

Leia smiled tightly. They all knew very well why the wookiee still bothered but no one needed to voice it. The princess cleared her throat to refocus her thoughts. "You hungry, Chewie? We still have some left overs here."

< Thank you, maybe later Princess. > Chewbacca's shoulder's bobbed as he ran his hands under the running water. < Did you talk to Lando yet? > 

"No, there was a message saying that he had dropped by, but I haven't heard from him." Leia gathered up a stack of plates and brought them up to the sink. 

Chewie turned off the faucet and turned to the princess. < Don't get your hopes up, > he said, shaking out his hands. < I'm sure he'll still get back to you. > 

Leia sighed. "Knowing my luck of late, I'd say you are probably right."

Chewie gave a whuff of amusement before heading towards Bailey's room. < Well don't worry princess, > he called lightly behind him, < your luck is bound to change one of these days. > 

Leia rubbed her forehead. "Don't I wish," she muttered tiredly. 

From across the room, she missed the knowing shine in her brother's eyes. 

********

Han Solo stared down at the back of his hands in disbelief. Upon hearing Lando's bombshell, he had literally dropped into one of the ships many seats, where he had spent the next few minutes staring off in wide eyed astonishment . 

Han was still struggling to wrap his brain around it. _A son!_ The smuggler was stunned. It was incomprehensible to him. Not that it was bad news. No, but he just couldn't believe it. _Me--a father?_ It felt so unreal. 

Han swallowed. _But it's also so _incredible.

A small disbelieving smile crept over his face. He looked up at Lando, who still sat in his same seat. He had been too fascinated by Han's reaction to move. The smuggler licked his lips nervously. "Lando," he began, "wha-what's he like? Bailey, I mean."

Calrissian gave a small shrug of his shoulders. "I've only seen him once, when he was a baby." Lando smiled broadly, "but to hear Chewbacca tell it, he's the spittin' image of you."

Han mouth quirked up in awed disbelief, "really?" He couldn't keep the wonder out of his voice. 

Lando nodded. "Yeah, in every sense. Chewie keeps boasting that your boy is going to make a fine pilot some day." 

"Yeah?" Han gave a small proud smile as gazed off distantly. "A pilot, huh?" He gave Lando a sudden look. "So I guess Chewie spends a lot of time with them?"

"Han," the gambler answered seriously, "Chewbacca spends almost _all_ his time with them."

The smuggler's brows shot up in mild surprise, "he does?"

Lando gave a knowing smile, "it's what you wanted. Remember?"

Han shook his head in disbelief, "yeah, but...I-I can't believe that he would actually..."

Calrissian grinned broadly and reached over to give the smuggler a light-hearted smack on the shoulder. "Oh, don't get too big a head, Solo. It wasn't all for you." The general chuckled good-naturedly, "I'm sure Chewbacca's own fondness for the princess had something to do with it too."

Han smiled as he absently rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah," he conceded wistfully, "he always did like her." He gave Lando a sheepish look, "probably even before _I_ did." As Han's thoughts once again flashed to the princess his grin faded. He looked up at Lando with a sober expression. "So," he said seriously, "Chewie's with Leia now?"

The general nodded, "yes."

Han nodded in understanding. "He's been there from the beginning?"

"Yes," Lando answered, "Chewie's been a very good friend. He has helped the princess through a lot."

Han swallowed. "Good." He was touched by the wookiee's intense loyalty. And Han was sincerely glad that if he couldn't have been around these past years then at least his best friend had been. Han knew with confidence that Chewbacca must have taken good care of them. But the smuggler felt a sudden pang of despair as he realized all that must've happened in those years. _Birthday parties. Life Days. School plays._

And then his thoughts switched to Leia. Han let out a despondent sigh. _I _miss_ her._ He felt horrible. He desperately wished that he could have been there for her. Through her pregnancy, the labor, Bailey's first illness. She shouldn't have had to parent their child alone. 

Han's stomach tightened. But she _hadn't_ been alone. The smuggler felt bile rise up in his throat. _Simon._ _He_ had been there too. This faceless man got to share all those memories with Leia. _He_ got to take the boy to his first smashball game, or teach him how to ride a hover scooter. Han felt the muscles in his face clench. It was _Simon_ who had gotten to do all those things. Things that _Han_ should've done. 

The smuggler suddenly felt sick.

Han swallowed. He looked up and met Lando's gaze. "There's so much I've missed...."

Lando gave him a sympathetic look. "Han," he started, "there's still so much left. So much you _haven't_ missed yet."

The smuggler nodded absently. "I know...." Han looked down at his lap, and flexed his hands slowly. "Lando?"

"Yeah?"

Han looked up at the gambler, his eyes suddenly hardening with resolve. "Tell me where they are." He didn't even try to hide the pleading in his voice, "I need to know."

"Sure." Lando nodded in slow understanding, "absolutely."

Han stood up. He stared down at the gambler with an expectant look. Lando instantly recognized the determined glint in his friend's eye. He wrinkled his brow in surprise. "You mean you want to go right now??"

The smuggler let out a shaky breath. "Yeah, I've lost enough time already."

"B-but what-" Lando stammered, "are you just going to show up on her doorstep? What are you gonna say?"

"I don't know." Han gave a small nervous smile, "I guess I'll just improvise."


	15. Chapter Fifteen

While You Were Gone--Chapter 15

Bailey lay face up on his bed, the pitch blackness of the room was a small comfort as it surrounded him. Suddenly a wedge of bright light cut through the darkness causing him to shield his eyes with the back of his hand. The bedroom door had slid open to reveal the outline of a tall wookiee. "Hey, Uncle Chewie," the boy said flatly, his gaze flicking back up to the ceiling.

Chewbacca entered the room and sat down on the edge of the bed. His massive weight caused the mattress to bulge up on the boy's side. < Hey pal. What's going on? > 

Bailey shrugged indifferently. "Nothing."

< Nothing? > Chewie looked at the boy with a doubtful expression. < Doesn't seem like nothing. Why are you in bed so early? > 

"I guess I feel sick."

< You 'guess'? > Chewie leaned over the boy, < _are_ you sick? > 

Bailey looked at the wookiee, his eyes wide and mournful. "No," he answered finally, "but I _feel_ sick."

< Why? > Chewie pressed gently.

"I-" the boy hesitated, "I don't know."

< You don't? > Chewbacca gave a resigned sigh. < Well, maybe I could tell you a story. Would that help you feel better? > 

Bailey abruptly turned his back so that he was facing the wall. "I don't want to hear any of your stories tonight, Uncle Chewie," he announced with a dullness in his voice.

< Oooh, but I've got a great one, > Chewbacca said enthusiastically, < It's about this one time that your dad and I-- > 

"--No!" Bailey interrupted crossly, "I said I don't want to hear any of your dumb stories!"

The wookiee's back stiffened in surprise. < Okay, > he said finally, trying to keep the hurt out of his voice. < We can do something else then. > 

"I don't wanna do anything." Bailey gave Chewie a brief glance of annoyance and then turned back toward the wall. "I just wanna be by myself."

Chewbacca's shoulders slumped in defeat. The they both sat there for a moment, the silence weighing heavily on them. Suddenly Bailey sniffed softly. The wookiee looked over and noticed a subtle quaking in the boy's shoulders. He reached out and placed a comforting hand on the child's arm. < Why do you cry, cub? > 

"I'm not crying," the boy insisted, but the tremble in his voice suggested otherwise.

< It's okay, > Chewbacca said gently, < even big boys cry sometimes. > 

Bailey turned to him, his eyes wide and shiny with tears. He sniffed. "Have you ever cried, Uncle Chewie?" 

< Yes. > 

The boy wiped his cheeks with the back of his hand. "When?" He asked.

Chewie sighed, and turned away. < When your dad died, > he mumbled softly.

Bailey turned back to the wall. "Oh."

Another moment of silence hung over them. Finally the child spoke up, his voice muffled as he talked to the wall. "Do you think my daddy would of liked me?" 

< Yes, > Chewie answered without hesitation, < he would've loved you. > 

Bailey digested this for a second. He hesitated and then turned to face the wookiee again. "But how do you know that?"

< I know that, > Chewbacca answered confidently, < because he was my best friend. > He smiled down at the boy, < and now you are too. > 

Bailey smiled up at the wookiee, his cheeks still wet with tears. "I am?"

< Yes, definitely. > 

The child sniffed again and his smile faltered as his expression grew serious. "Uncle Chewie?" His voice was now hushed, as he looked up at the wookiee with a sober expression.

< Yes? > 

Bailey's gaze flickered to the doorway, and seeing it was empty, he turned back to the wookiee. "If we're best friends, then I can tell you secrets right?"

Chewie's expression grew curious. < Sure, > but his tone rang with a twinge of uncertainty.

"And you can't tell anyone else, right? Because we're best friends?"

The wookiee nodded hesitantly, < Yes, I guess that's how it works. > 

The child stood up in his bed with a suddenness that startled Chewie. Bailey gazed at him intently. "Then I'm gonna tell you somethin','" he gave Chewbacca an imploring look. "But you gotta swear on the force that you won't tell anyone. Especially, Momma."

Chewie shifted uncomfortably on the bed. He didn't know if he should promise to keep something from Leia. It didn't feel right, but at the same time he guessed it was important to allow the boy to get whatever was bothering him off his chest. Afterwards, Chewbacca reasoned, he could always urge the boy to go to his mother himself. < Okay, buddy, > he said finally, < I won't tell anyone. > 

Bailey grabbed Chewie's shoulder and leaned in to whisper in the wookiee's ear. His voice was an urgent hush as he confessed, "I saw daddy today."

Chewbacca's back stiffened in shock as he digested the boy's words. < What? > He gasped in disbelief.

"In the park," Bailey's grip on the wookiee's shoulder tightened. "He was watching Momma and Uncle Luke. I saw him."

Chewbacca leaned back to meet the boy's eyes. He studied Bailey's expression as if something found there might confirm or deny the boy's story. < What makes you think it was your daddy? > 

Bailey licked his lips, "he was wearing pilot pants and boots." The boy hesitated, "and I-I just *knowed* it was him." The boy's face twisted in frustration as he struggled to explain himself. "I don't know why, I just knowed." 

The wookiee nodded numbly, unsure of what to say. 

The child swallowed. "But Uncle Chewie," suddenly his voice sounded strained, "the bad thing is--" Bailey faltered and suddenly he turned away from his friend. He sniffed as he felt the push of tears in his eyes.

< What is it? > Chewie asked gently. 

Bailey turned back to the wookiee, his cheeks damp again. "The bad thing is that he doesn't like me." He sniffed sadly, "I'm not the kid he wanted."

Chewbacca shook his head in adament denial. < No, Bailey. That's not true. > 

"But it is!" The boy insisted behind his tears. "He went away after he saw _me_." 

Chewie pulled the child into his lap and wrapped a comforting arm around him. < You know what I think? > He said cheerfully, < I don't think you saw your daddy at all. I think you just saw a man who looked a lot like him and you got confused. > 

Bailey shook his head, "no. It was him."

< You said you didn't think that this man liked you, right? > Chewbacca asked lightly. < See? Right there I know you didn't see your dad. There's _no way_ he wouldn't like you. > Chewie shook his head and proclaimed, < it's just not possible, why you're one of the neatest people I know! > 

Bailey bristled in annoyance, the comforting words of his friend rolling right off him. "Stop saying I'm _wrong_." The boy abruptly pushed himself out of the wookiee's lap. "Everyone says I don't know stuff--but I do!" Bailey began stomping the floor angerly, "I'm sick of people telling me that I am just having dreams when I know I'm not! And I hate grown-ups telling me I didn't see my daddy when I knowed I did!" He glared at his friend accusingly, "I'm not dumb, Uncle Chewie."

Chewie held up his hands defensively, < okay, Bailey. You're right, I'm sorry. > The wookiee watched as the boy crossed his arms and gave one last stomp of his foot for good measure. Chewbacca sighed, he meant it when he said Bailey was one of the neatest people he knew, but, wow, did the boy have a temper. Chewie shook his head knowingly. With his genetics it was probably unavoidable. At least it seemed that the present storm was passing. 

Bailey sniffed, "so do you believe me then?"

Chewbacca hesitated, < I-uh, well.... > he allowed his voice to trail off.

There was really nothing the wookiee could say.

********

Simon stumbled out of the cab, his arms virtually overflowing with bags and suitcases. He dropped them unceremoniously onto the curb and leaned back into the speeder to give the droid the proper amount of credits. "Next time take the _straight_ route," he muttered crossly.

The droid turned to him, his metallic face stuck in an expression of permanent indifference. "Thank you sir," it chirped cheerfully, "and remember to use Coruscant Cabbies for all your travelling needs!"

Simon shook his head in annoyance and pushed himself back out of the speeder. He straightened as the warmth of the muggy night overwhelmed him. His head buzzed a little from the alcohol he had consumed while in flight, but he would be all right. Simon made a face as he breathed in the distinguished smell of air that had been polluted with over a million ships in its lifetime.

//Ah, yes.// He thought with a derisive snort, //it certainly is wonderful to be home again.//

Simon tripped foward a step as the cab behind him took off with a start. The man stifled an irritated curse as leaned over to pick up his bags. He was missing New Alderaan already.

"Ooof!" He groaned as he tried to lift the heavy cases. They suddenly felt like they weighed a whole lot more. Simon abruptly stood up, embarrassed at the trouble he was having. He gave a quick look around to see if anyone was witnessing his ineptitude. //How mortifying.//

Suddenly his gaze caught on a man who was nervously pacing in front of the entrance to the apartment building. Simon peered at him as he took in his appearance. Dark hair. Tall. He _looked_ pretty strong. Simon smirked. Those clothes look like they have probably been through more than a few seasons. //Commoner.// Yes, perhaps this man could help him out.

"Excuse me," he called pleasantly. 

The man looked over at him, his expression startled. He had obviously been pretty entrenched in his own thoughts and was surprised to suddenly be disturbed.

"Yes, you friend." Simon said patiently, "could you give me a hand with this?" He gave a small embarrassed chuckle. "I seem to be having a bit of trouble."

Han Solo glared at the man suspiciously. His fist instinctively tightened around the paper in his hand. He had all ready smeared Lando's precise handwriting past the point of legibility with the way his palms were sweating. And it's not like he didn't have the address instantly memorized. He could recite it right now. But still he held onto the paper. As if the reality of her address, her home, could give him strength to draw from. Because right now he was back to being a nervous wreck. He had had such steely resolve while aboard Lando's ship. He had felt so sure of himself. So confident, that he had had no qualms about casually brushing aside that Malcolm guy when he had tried to insist on coming with him. Lando was probably still trying to calm the man down. Han didn't get what concern it was of him, but Calrissian seemed to have a clue about what the man was ranting about. Lando had been set on not having Han figure it out though, that was obvious. The smuggler really didn't care anyway. Especially at that moment. He had had a one-tracked mind. He had just been set on seeing the princess again.

And here he was, right outside her apartment building, and all he had been able to do was pace back and forth for the past few minutes. The courage he had once used to chase several stormtroopers down the hall of a Death Star had seemed to abandon him upon arriving here. Now he couldn't even summon up enough to simply buzz Leia's apartment. It was pathetic. And Han had been in the middle of berating himself about his dilemma when the high browed gentleman had called over to him. Han looked at the man now. "What?" His voice was laced with distrust.

Simon could feel the muscles in his face ache as he forced another pleasant grin. "Could you help me carry these? Just to the front entrance," he assured him. "Then I can call down my droid to get them."

Han slowly approached the man, his hesitant step clearly conveyed his misgivings.

Simon gave him a grateful smile. "Thank you." He shook his head and let out another small chuckle, "It seems I may have had a few too many drinks in hyperspace after all."

"Yeah well," Han leaned over and lifted two bags, "that's been known to happen."

"Just don't tell my wife," Simon gave him a conspiratorial wink, as he slung another bag over his shoulder, "eh, friend?"

"Right." Han forced a small smile for the man's benefit. But in reality, the guy was all ready irritating the hell out of him. He couldn't believe Leia could stand to live in the same building with people like this.

The men started walking towards the entrance. Simon swallowed back a hiccup and threw a furtive glance at the yellow stripe running up the other man's leg. "Nice pants," he said, his tone rang with insincerity. "You a pilot?"

"Yes," Han answered tightly.

"Wow, would my son be impressed," Simon announced just a little too loudly. He really did have a few too many while in space. But he wasn't drunk; only commoners got drunk. He had just had a few to celebrate the success of his trip. And he had also needed to relax his nerves a bit before coming face to face with the princess. Simon turned his attention back to the man at his side. "He wants to be a pilot someday, you know."

"Really," the smuggler answered evenly. He was really not up for any polite conversation at the moment.

Simon chuckled as he threw his bag down in front of the entrance, "yes." He shook his head, "kids! What are you going to do?" Simon gave the other man a bemused expression, "of course, I once wanted to be a bantha herder when I was his age." He didn't even try to hide the mirth in his voice, "ah, well. Let's hope the boy also out grows his little fixation as well. Right?"

Han dropped the bags on the ground with a 'thump'. "Yes, it would be a shame," he said coldly. He felt like he was two seconds away from popping this guy in the mouth. "When the galaxy could sure use some more mindless bureaucrats like you." 

Simon blinked. He wasn't sure, but he thought that the man had just insulted him. But surely he wouldn't have dared. Simon gave the smuggler a startled smile, "yes, well...."

Han sneered crookedly and then turned to walk away. Suddenly the man was calling after him. "Excuse me, friend-", he said loudly, "wait a moment."

Han turned back towards the man. Simon gave a smug smile and then tossed him a coin. "For your trouble."

Han shot the man an incredulous look as he caught the coin in his palm. He glanced down at it and was momentarily taken with the 'New Republic' insignia emblazoned on the front. Han gazed back up at the other man coldly. Simon returned the glare evenly, "for some new clothes," he clarified. The man then reached over and pressed the button for his apartment.

Han Solo had to swallow back the urge to shove the coin down the man's throat. And on any other evening he would have--gladly. But this was not the time to get distracted. This smug bastard would be out of his life in about two minutes, so he was not worth getting arrested over. Not when he had finally gotten this close to seeing Leia again.

Han swallowed. //What am I waiting for?// He ran a nervous hand through his hair. The smuggler glanced over at the drunk gentleman who was now apparently on the line with his apartment. 

"Yes, I _know_ you asked me to call," the man was arguing, his voice still at an inappropriate level. He sighed in annoyance at whatever the person on the other end was saying. "Fine. I'm very sorry. We'll talk about this upstairs. Now please send down the droid. And please hurry." The man cast Han a nervous glance and continued on in a whisper that could probably be heard across the street, "there's a man down here and I think he's going to rough me up in a second if I don't get inside."

Han grimaced. //Probably talking to his poor wife,// the smuggler thought crossly. Well, fine. He would buzz the princess right after this jerk was done. He was hoping that maybe the gentleman would prove himself useful by letting Han in the front door himself, but that looked pretty slim now.

"No, I am not being paranoid!"

Han rolled his eyes and shook his head in disgust. He wandered over to the sidewalk and noticed a small hand held case laying on the ground. It had probably been overlooked by the smug man. Han smirked. //Oh, well.//

Simon rubbed a frustrated hand against his forehead as he listened to his wife through the speaker. "I'll just come down myself," she said, "it'll give me a chance to have a quick word with you about-" she hesitated, "about Bailey. I'm worried." 

Simon instantly sobered a bit. "What's wrong?"

"I don't know," Leia sounded tired. "That's what I need to talk to you about."

Simon shook his head, forgetting for a moment that the princess could not see him. "But the bags are much too heavy."

Leia sighed, "well then I'll bring Luke with me. Just hold tight okay?" And with a click she was gone.

Simon fell against the wall of the building and rubbed his temples. He looked over and noticed that pilot leaning up against one of the columns out front. Actually, all he could see of the man was an elbow that jutted out the side of the long strip of marble, but he knew it was him. In his newfound sobriety, Simon had enough decency to feel a rush of shame at the way he had treated the man. He crimsoned, he dearly hoped that the man hadn't heard what he said to Leia. //How _truly_ mortifying!//

Han cast a casual look over his shoulder at the smug gentleman. Well, he was done with his conversation. But still, Han had better wait until the man actually went inside. His conversation with Leia was bound to be a remarkably personal moment for them both, and it would be better not to have an audience.

Han continued to lean against the column, impatiently waiting for the intoxicated man to go inside. Finally he was rewarded with the sound of the front door opening.

"Oh, darling," the man proclaimed loudly, "so wonderful to see you again!"

Han smirked at the man's exclamation. //What a phony.// He shook his head in disbelief. One day he hoped the gent's woman wised up--for her sake.

"Hello Simon," his wife responded civilly, "I see *you've* had a nice flight."

Han straightened with a start. //Simon? No-// He turned his head, being sure to take a step back so he was barely peeking around the marble column. The smuggler wouldn't be able to believe it if the man he had just had a confrontation with was actually Leia's husband. It would be too bizarre.

But then again, he thought wryly, this whole day had been pretty bizarre so far.

A lean man in black was bending over to pick up the heavier of the bags. Han recognized him instantly. //Luke!// 

Simon smiled appreciatively at the Jedi. "Thanks so much, Luke." He chuckled, "I would take that one myself, but you know-" he gave his brother-in-law a wink, "I lack any formal Jedi training." 

Luke smiled patiently at the man, "don't worry about it." As he stood up again, his body straightened to reveal Leia standing behind him.

Han could feel the breath get caught in his throat. He steadied himself against the pillar, suddenly grateful that it was there to carry his weight. Leia had one of the smaller bags slung over her shoulder. She gave Simon a small smile as she looked up at him, but there was strain in her eyes. The princess was uncomfortable. Han could tell. "Well, are you ready to go inside?" Her voice was filled with forced cheer, "or should we wait around so we could invite Simon's bloodthirsty thug in for some Kashyyykian tea?"

Simon gave an insincere chuckle. "Oh, Leia," he said lightly, as the trio pushed their way through the doorway, "I was only being paranoid. Surely you know me by now..."

And then they were gone.

Han turned and slumped against the column in defeat. He had blown it. For the _second_ time today. That had to be getting close to a new record for him. 

Han ran a frustrated hand through his hair as he cursed his cowardice under his breath. //Now what?// The smuggler turned and kicked at the pillar in frustration. 

//_Damn! Damn! Damn!!_//

Suddenly the front door was pushed open and the familiar ring of Leia's voice was once again carried over to him. "--oh I see it!" She called behind her as she made her way towards the sidewalk. 

Han watched her rapid approach, his stomach tightening in astonishment. //She was back!// He remained rooted behind the pillar.

And suddenly the princess was right there. In front of him. She was bending over to retrieve the small case from the curb, her profile to the smuggler. Han swallowed. //She's _right_ there! Do it! Do it!// The smuggler wiped his hands nervously against his pants. Leia straightened. She was rubbing some dirt off the case with her thumb. She turned, her gaze still concentrated on the small black case in her hands. She took a step towards the doorway.

This was it. This was last his chance.

Han cleared his throat. He took a tentative step away from the column. 

His voice felt loud and awkward as he forced it from his throat, "Leia?"

The princess froze. Her back became rigid and her arms fell limply to her sides. Everything was suddenly eerily still. 

Han swallowed.

Leia turned around slowly, her chest heaving with anxiety. She could hear a sudden tempo pounding in her ears. Leia looked towards the pillar and her face whitened. She could feel the breath physically leave her as her wide eyes locked with his. The princess could barely move. Her next word came out in a shuddering gasp, "Han?"

The correllian took another step towards her, his intense gaze never leaving hers. Han let out a shaky breath and gave her a shy crooked smile. "Hey there, sweetheart."

********


	16. Chapter Sixteen

Leia's husband threw Luke a sheepish smile as the two of them stood in the front lobby of the apartment building. Simon shifted uncomfortably under the weight of his two bags. "I can't believe I almost left that small one behind," he said with a trace of embarrassment in his voice. Simon shook his head in disbelief, "I don't where my brain is at today."

Luke smiled tightly. He was pretty sure he could pinpoint the reason for the man's absent-mindedness, but the Jedi was too polite to voice it. "You must be exhausted from flying," he finally replied. Luke motioned his head towards the turbo-lift. "Why don't we go on ahead upstairs. Leia will follow us up."

Simon shook his head, "that's silly." He insisted, "Leia will only be a second. Why she should be back in a-" Simon faltered as his gaze caught on something through the front window. The princess was standing with that scruffy space pilot. They seemed to be talking. Simon sighed impatiently, "look at that." He said, nodding his head at the window. "Always one for the people, my princess."

Luke followed the man's gaze and smiled as he took in the sight of his friend. There he was. Han Solo. Luke was pleased to see that he had finally come forward. Of course, the Jedi had known for some time that he would. Luke had foreseen it. But the reality of his friend's appearance was still something else entirely. It gave him a thrill.

"But I guess you've got to admire that," Simon continued, his voice rising with an uncertain pride. "Not many in her position would stoop to talk to the commoners like that." He gave his brother-in-law a knowing look, "I know I sure wouldn't bother." Simon chuckled, "unless of course, I'm running for office."

Luke could feel himself tense at the man's words, but he pressed a smile onto his face before turning back to him. "Yes, well-" the Jedi said with forced casualness in his voice, "it looks like she'll be talking for a few minutes. Let's not stand around here waiting."

Simon cast another glance out the window. "I don't know," he said reluctantly, "should we really leaver her alone with-with that _man_?"

Luke couldn't suppress his small grin. "Yes," he said with confident amusement, "I'm quite certain she'll be perfectly safe with him." And with a gentle nudge of one of his bags, the Jedi urged Leia's hesitant husband towards the turbo-lift. 

Luke turned around only once, to cast one last look through the front window. He smiled as he took in the sight of his stunned sister standing before the smuggler. Leia had just had the shock of her life, but the Jedi knew she was going to be all right.

Luke grinned.

//Finally.//

********

Outside in the muggy warm air, Leia couldn't breathe. She was removed from everything. From her own body. Even the constant drone of passing ships had silenced. There was nothing around her. There was only Han. She felt numb.

He looked exactly as she remembered. The same loving glint in his eyes, the familiar turn in his mouth. That same endearing scar marred his chin. And he hadn't aged a day. It was as if he had just walked straight out of her memories to be before her now. He was untouched by time. 

And he was standing right in front of her.

The princess swallowed. She was unaware that her legs were even supporting her until suddenly they began to buckle. Han took a quick step towards her and reached out his arms to steady her.

Leia released a startled gasp as she suddenly felt the warm pressure of his hands. They were gently gripping her arms. It was as if the physical contact had finally made the reality of the situation come rushing down on her. Her eyes fleeted to his hands in amazement before returning to his face. "Han..." she breathed in disbelief, her eyes flooding with tears.

"Princess," he smiled, but his heart was racing wildly in his chest.

Leia looked up at him, her eyes shiny and her expression stunned. "But where-" she shook her head in slow confusion.. "How.....?"

Han brought a hand up to her face and lightly brushed away a tear with his thumb. Leia closed her eyes at the tender gesture, her chest rising and falling as she fought to catch her breath. They were silent for a moment. Suddenly Leia looked back up at him, eyes still wide with wonderment. "Are you real?" She finally asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Han nodded slowly, his gaze locked in steadily with hers. "Leia," he said, his voice was trembling, "I missed you."

"Oh, Han," she gasped and he pulled her to his chest. He wrapped his arms tightly around her as she buried her face against him. The smuggler could feel the warmth of tears soaking through his shirt. "I missed you too," she exclaimed, her body shaking. "Oh gods, how I've missed you...."

Leia tightened her hold around him, her mind suddenly reeling. //Don't be a dream. Don't be a dream.// She couldn't believe this was real. It was too wonderful. Too perfect. But as she inhaled she could actually breathe in his familiar musky scent. And with her head up against his chest she could almost feel the beating of his heart. //This is real. Oh gods, this is actually *happening*.// And as she felt him press his lips against the top of her head she realized how perfectly the two of them still fit together. 

//This is bliss.//

Leia gently pulled back from him, her face still a mask of amazed disbelief. There was so much she needed to know. She gazed up at the smuggler, her eyes filled with a million questions. Leia didn't even know how to sort through them all. Where does one even begin? "Han," she finally managed in a throaty whisper, "where did you come from? Wha-we thought you...."

Han gave her a small comforting smile, one hand still tenderly caressing her cheek. He gave a slight shrug, "I don't really know."

Leia's brow rose in confusion, "but I-how did you-"

"Lando found me." His eyes combed every inch of her face, as he tried to desperately soak up every detail. "They let me out of carbonite a few days ago."

"What?" Leia's voice rose slightly at this revelation, "you mean you've been...all this time?" She turned her head as she tried to digest this piece of information. Her stomach tightened as she thought of him trapped like that. //And for so long....//

Han gently tilted her chin back towards him. "Well of course," he said trying to keep his voice light. "You don't think I would've stayed away otherwise, do you?"

Leia shook her head slowly as she felt another rush of tears push from her eyes. "No, but I-" She sniffed. "I just can't believe this." The princess gazed up at him. She wanted to prove this was real. It *felt* real. But so did all those other times.She reached out and lightly touched his jaw. Han was even more handsome than she remembered. She traced a light finger over his scar. He just gazed down at her intently. "Just don't be another dream okay?" There was a desperate vulnerability in her voice. It was something the smuggler was not used to hearing from her. "I don't think I could take that."

Han gently reached up and trapped her hand into his own. He then turned his face and placed a soft kiss on her palm. "I'm not going anywhere," he finally replied.

Leia smiled. Her heart was so flooded with relief at his words, that her mind didn't even consider the full implications of what he said. And what it meant in the reality of things.

Leia leaned back into his comforting embrace. All the princess knew at that moment was that she was finally back in the arms of Han Solo.

And she never wanted to leave.

********

Chewbacca leaned over the kitchen sink, his head bowed in deep thought. He was supposed to be fetching a glass of water for Bailey, but his mind just kept running over the conversation they had just had. Chewie shook his head at it all. He didn't know why the boy's proclamation ate away at him so much, but it did. The child was obviously mistaken, that was plainly obvious. But still...there was something in the boy's eyes that affected the wookiee. He just couldn't brush off Bailey's claims that easily. And this bothered Chewie--a lot.

He needed to talk to Leia. But Chewbacca also didn't want to break his promise to the child. He felt impossibly stuck. The wookiee sighed mournfully. He wanted so much to believe the boy. Too much. But he knew better. It was all just wishful thinking.

Chewie was pulled out of his reverie by the sound of the front door sliding open. Suddenly Simon's familiar voice was ringing through the apartment. "--I'm telling you Luke. Next time you go off planet you simply must take one of these transports!" There was the sound of heavy bags hitting the floor. "They treat you to all the perks, it's wonderful!"

"Actually Simon," Luke replied lightly, "I usually take my X-wing when I fly. So I don't think-"

The man interrupted his brother-in-law with a good-natured chuckle. "X-wing. Yes well," his voice grew louder as he walked towards the kitchen. "If you ever want to travel in style..." Simon entered the kitchen and smiled upon seeing the wookiee. "Oh, hello, Chewbacca."

Chewie growled a greeting back to him.

Simon smiled blankly up at the wookiee, before casting a questioning glance at the Jedi who stood over his shoulder. Luke smiled patiently and patted his brother-in-law on the shoulder. "He's just welcoming you back, Simon."

The man nodded back up at the wookiee pleasantly. "Yes, well." He forced a smile. "Thanks so much, it's certainly wonderful to be back." 

Chewie gave a quick nod of acknowledgement and then threw a look over the heads of the two men. He turned to Luke questioningly, 

Luke looked up at the wookiee with an unreadable expression on his face. The jedi's eyes flicked briefly to Simon, who was heading for the fridge unit, and then back up to Chewie. "She's downstairs," he replied carefully.

Chewbacca gave the Jedi a curious look. It almost seemed like Luke was holding back something, but the wookiee didn't press it. 

Luke nodded in understanding. He _wanted_ to tell Chewbacca. The wookiee, after all, deserved to know. But Luke couldn't fill him in yet. The Jedi glanced guiltily at Simon, who was now rummaging through the fridge for something to eat. No, not with Simon here. Oh, he knew Leia's husband was going to have to find out eventually, but not yet. This was too delicate a time for everyone. And force knew, that if Simon caught wind of the fact that it was _Han Solo_ downstairs talking to his wife, he would put an end to that conversation pretty quick. Luke looked back up at the wookiee and gave him an assured smile. "Don't worry Chewie, she'll be back up sooner or later."

Simon turned from the fridge and gave Luke a knowing look. "I'd say she better be up here 'sooner'. I still don't feel right about leaving her with that _pilot_ person." 

Chewie gave Luke a curious look. 

The Jedi opened his mouth to answer, but Simon just continued on, his head shaking in disgust. "Does she have her comlink on her? I say that if she's not up here in five minutes, we give her a call."

"Come on, Simon..."

"No, I mean it Luke." The man gave his brother-in-law a pointed look, before returning to his search for food. "I don't really feel like finding my wife in pieces all over Coruscant due to some deranged spacer." His voice had taken on a tinny quality from inside the fridge unit.

Luke shook his head in amusement, "You're being ridiculous. Need I remind you that-"

But Simon had already moved on. He popped his head out of the fridge and gave his brother-in-law an incredulous look. "I don't believe this," he announced in annoyance. "Someone ate all my nerf! I was going to make sandwiches with that!"

Chewbacca quickly averted his eyes guiltily, < I better get Bailey his water now. > He grabbed the glass off the counter and was about to head off to the bedroom when the appearance of the boy himself stopped him in his tracks. He said cheerfully.

Bailey nodded from the doorway. "I heard Simon. Is he home?"

Simon's brief annoyance dissipated at the sound of his name. His face lit up, "is that my little man?"

Bailey smiled and ran over to greet his stepfather. "You're back," the boy exclaimed happily. He thrust out his arms and Simon swooped him up with a flourish. 

"How's my little guy? Have you been a good boy while I've been gone?"

Bailey nodded enthusiastically. "I've been real good."

Simon raised an eyebrow. "Really, truly?"

"Uh, huh." The boy smiled shyly at him. "Did you miss me?"

"Yes," Simon feigned a serious expression, "but only a little."

Bailey giggled. "Good, 'cos I didn't miss you at _all_!"

Chewbacca smiled at this exchange. It was good to see the child suddenly back in better spirits, but it also puzzled him. The wookiee had never seen Bailey greet his stepfather with such enthusiasm. The boy was always glad to see him, that was true, but this kind of unrestrained display of affection was usually reserved only for Leia. Or himself. He threw Luke a questioning glance, but the Jedi only returned his look with a tense smile.

His stepfather let out a little 'huff', as he gazed down at the boy adoringly. "Well," he said, "if you didn't miss me, then I guess I won't give you your present."

The boy's eyes widened in delight. "You got me a present??"

"Maybe..."

Bailey suddenly squirmed with excitement, "can I have it now?"

Simon smiled good-naturedly at the boy and set him back down on the floor. "I suppose," there was a mischievous twinkle in his eye. "Go check out my blue bag--in the side pocket."

"Yay!" Bailey started off in a flash, but he came to a sudden screeching halt at the doorway. He turned back to his stepfather and suddenly gave him another shy smile. "I love you, Simon."

The man returned it with a startled grin, he was touched by the boy's words. "I love you too, Bailey. Very much."

The child's smile broadened and his eyes briefly fleeted up to the wookiee. Chewbacca returned the look. Gazing down at the boy, it was as if he felt a sudden wave of sad understanding wash over him. But then Bailey looked away and grinned back at his stepfather. "I'm gonna open my present now." And he took off.

Simon gave the wookiee and the Jedi a sheepish smile. "What a sweet kid," he said, shaking his head wistfully.

Luke nodded in easy agreement, but he felt a rush of shame color his cheeks. It was as if watching the scene between Bailey and his stepfather had reminded him of everything that was suddenly at stake. He had felt a sharp pang of guilt as he looked at Simon. The man wasn't all that bad. Sure, he tested even the endless patience of the Jedi at times, but seeing him with his stepson proved that there was a genuine goodness inside the man as well. //This must be what Leia sees.// 

Luke had to admit that he suddenly felt a little sorry for his sister's husband. He was so oblivious to the fact that only within the last few minutes, his life had been completely altered forever.

Simon was about to have the rug pulled out from beneath him, and he didn't even have the faintest idea.

********

Leia raced to keep up with Han as he led her through the busy streets of Coruscant. Upon that final embrace outside her apartment building, the two of them had suddenly become aware of just how _public_ they were. They wanted to be alone. Have some privacy. And since going up to Leia's apartment was decidedly out of the question, Han suggested that they take a walk. Preferably in an area of the city that was a little more secluded. 

So now the two of them were weaving between masses of pedestrians, both of them desperate to get to a place where they could talk more easily. The princess' mind was still having a hard time coming to terms with the situation she suddenly found herself in. //That's Han holding my hand!// His assured grip felt so warm and secure. And _familiar_. She still couldn't believe that she was actually feeling his touch again. It was so unreal. It was so _wonderful_.

Han threw her a broad smile from over his shoulder, "am I going too fast for you, Princess?"

Leia raised her chin a little, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "I have never had any trouble keeping up with you, Captain."

The smuggler gave her a knowing wink. "Yeah, I know," he admitted, a crooked grin on his face.

The princess felt a charge course through her at the sight of that familiar expression. Gods, she had missed so much about this man. And suddenly with every passing moment he was allowing more memories to come flooding back to her. 

Only now, they didn't hurt her. No, now they _thrilled_ her. Suddenly Han turned a corner and Leia realized that he was leading her back to the park where she had just been this afternoon. But now it was blanketed in darkness, the moons overhead casting the only light across the grassy area. The trees loomed over them, their black silhouettes casting shadows over the couple. But it was almost comforting. As if they were being protected from the harsh realities that awaited in the city that surrounded them.

Han gave Leia's hand a gentle squeeze, as the two of them slowed their pace. "I thought we might find some quiet here."

The princess smiled up at him. "It's perfect," she said softly.

He gave her hand another squeeze, and then cleared his throat. Leia had begun filling him in on the victory of the rebellion while on the walk over here. Han was glad to finally learn the details, but when he had asked what had gone on in the last few years, what he had really meant was what had been going on with _her_. But still, he was curious about the war so he had listened to her patiently while she filled him in. Han wasn't too anxious to talk about Simon yet anyway. Probably Leia wasn't either, and maybe she had deliberately misunderstood him. "So," he finally said, "you weren't involved in the battle of Endor then?"

The princess' cheeks pinkened slightly, and Han could feel her hand clench nervously in his grip. "Uhm, no." Her voice was hesitant, "I wasn't really in any condition to fight." She suddenly diverted her eyes down to the ground in front of them.

The smuggler shot her a curious look, and Leia swallowed. She didn't know why she was so nervous all of a sudden. "I-uh, was sort of uhm," she let out a shaky breath, "very _pregnant_ at the time."

Han's face softened and he came to a sudden stop. He looked down at her apologetically, "oh yeah, of *course*. I wasn't thinking."

Leia had stopped too, and now she gazed up at him with surprised confusion.

Han could read her questioning look and gave her a small reassuring smile. "I know already," he said softly, "about Bailey, I mean."

Suddenly it felt like time was standing still. The princess opened her mouth in surprise as she gazed up at the smuggler. She didn't say a word. Her mind was reeling. //You 'know'? But what do you _think_?// It was as if her whole world was resting on what he said next. She desperately wanted to know _how_ he felt about learning about Bailey, but she lost her nerve. Instead she asked, "how? Did Lando tell you?"

Han released a shaky breath, "sorta." He turned away shyly for a moment and then looked back down on her with an embarrassed smirk on his face. "I kinda saw you today. When you were here."

"You did?" The princess' eyes widened with amazement, "you were here?"

"Yeah." Han looked down at the ground, and shifted his weight in restlessly as he struggled with what to say next. Finally he looked up at her and gave her a tender smile. "He looks just like you, Leia," he said with hushed awe.

Leia blushed at his remark and averted her eyes shyly. "That's funny," she replied softly, "I always thought he looked like his father." She cast a quick glance up at the smuggler and nervously tried to gage his reaction. 

Han just returned the look intently, his expression impossible to read. Finally, he turned away and gave a casual shrug. "Ah, well," he said in an attempt to lighten the mood, "either way, I guess the kid's destined to be good-looking."

Leia put a hand over her mouth and stifled a small laugh. She was so *nervous* that it had just blurted out. Han grinned at her response, it warmed him to see her smile like that. He had a feeling she hadn't done much of it in awhile. She looked up at him, her mouth curved in amusement. "It's good to see that the years haven't made you _too_ humble, Han."

The smuggler raised his eyebrows in amusement. "Yeah?" He brought her hand up to his mouth and kissed it softly. "Because did I say 'good-looking'? What I really meant was *gorgeous*." He pulled her gently towards him, his gaze clouding over with a familiar desire. "*You're* so gorgeous, Leia." 

Han leaned into her. Leia closed her eyes as she felt his lips lightly brushing against the nape of her neck. She wrapped her arms around him to pull him closer. She felt faint as his mouth continued to work its way up to her earlobe. "Han..." she gasped weakly.

"Mmhm?" He murmured against her skin.

The princess summoned up enough self control to gently push him away. "Wait a second," she said in an urgent whisper. Leia paused to catch her breath, "if you saw me at the park, why didn't you talk to me then?"

Han gave a slight shrug, his hands reaching to pull her close again. "I just misread the situation," he said casually, "that's all." He smiled at her knowingly, while his face inched closer.

Leia shook her head in confusion, "but how-?" She gasped at the sudden light pressure of his warm lips trailing along her jawline. The princess took a steadying breath as she fought to regain control over her thoughts. She pressed her eyes shut as she pushed herself out of his embrace. "Wait, Han. Really."

Han gave her a questioning look. "What's wrong?"

"What do you mean by that?" Her expression was puzzled, "that you 'misread the situation'?"

The smuggler gave her a light-hearted smile. "I thought that you and Luke were..." he paused as if searching for the right word, "_together_. You know..."

Leia's brow shot up in mild surprise, "me and Luke?"

Han shook his head sheepishly, "yeah. But Lando told me you aren't so-" he reached out a hand and rubbed her arm gently. "Now I know there's not a problem...."

Leia stiffened. Her mind suddenly flashed to Simon. She stepped back out of the smuggler's reach. "No, wait. There _is_ a problem."

Han swallowed. "What do you mean?" He asked hesitantly, but the smuggler knew with a sudden dread what was coming.

"Han," Leia was gazing up at him intently now, her eyes wide and beseeching. She reached out for him, her ears pounding nervously. Her heart tightened as she took one of his hands into hers. The princess desperately did not want to hurt him, but she knew he had to know. "I-I'm married," she blurted suddenly.

Han's shoulders sagged. He turned away from her, pulling his hand with him. "I know," he mumbled softly.

"You know?" Her voice rang with surprise, "but then why did you think-"

"I don't know," Han interrupted, a frustrated edge in his voice. He suddenly gazed back up at her, his expression mournful. "I guess I wasn't thinking at all. I guess I didn't want to." 

The smuggler ran a frustrated hand through his hair and tried to ignore the disbelieving stare of the princess. Han knew he had been deluding himself. For him to actually believe that he could just take back Leia without complication was ridiculous. He was no dummy. Han knew Leia better than that. She would never disregard something like marriage vows so casually. Even if it _was_ for him. Han shook his head in annoyance, mad at himself for actually being so naive. In his desperation to believe he could just grab Leia back, he had also been really stupid.

"Han I-" but the princess didn't know what to say. She studied Han's downcast expression and her heart clenched painfully. Leia wished things could be as simple as Han had imagined. But it was impossible. "I'm sorry," she finally replied.

Han acknowledged her apology with a resigned nod. He let out a anguished sigh before dropping himself down on a nearby park bench. The smuggler leaned forward with his head in his hands, his gaze pointed straight at the ground. A long stretch of silence hung between them. Finally, Han tilted his head back up at her. Then he asked, in a voice barely above a whisper, "do you love him?"

Leia visibly tensed at the question. She averted her gaze and her eyes darted around their surroundings nervously. It was as if she thought she could find an acceptable answer to his question written in one of the trees. //Yes? No? I don't know?// The princess swallowed. She finally summoned the courage to meet Han's steady gaze. His expression was so vulnerable, so _open_ at that moment that Leia had to literally catch her breath. She opened her mouth to answer, but suddenly Han was shaking his head. "No, forget it," he said, his voice suddenly louder, "I don't want to know."

The princess' shoulders sagged in relief. Good, she really didn't want to answer the question. Leia wasn't even sure if she knew how to respond anyway. Her heart ached as she gazed down at the smuggler. He looked so uncomfortable. So _depressed_. And it was all her fault.

Leia took a seat next to Han on the bench, but he still didn't look at her. He let out a shaky breath, and leaned back on the bench. His gaze was now directed up at the sky. The air seemed suddenly warmer, stifling, as the two of them sat there in a long silence. Leia studied Han carefully. The muscles in his jaw were tense and he rubbed his hands nervously against his pants. It was as if he was struggling to voice something, but couldn't get the nerve. The princess turned her head upwards, trying to trace his gaze with her own. She knew Han had something on her mind, but she would be patient.

"Leia," he finally said a moment later, his voice trembling nervously. "I know it's been a long time for you," he let out a pained sigh, "a really long time." Han continued to look up as he spoke, as if afraid to actually meet her gaze. "You've been through a lot over the years. _A lot_. So much has changed." He glanced at her fleetingly before returning his gaze to the stars. "I _do*_understand that. Don't think I don't. But-" his voice faltered and he had to take a steadying breath. "But while it's been seven years for you, it's only been a few days for me." Han paused to rub the back of his neck nervously before continuing. "All that stuff, our time on the 'falcon', Cloud City-" he swallowed. "While that may be a distant memory to you, for me it was only last week."

"Han-" Leia interrupted, her eyes filling with tears, "don't-"

"No wait," he said firmly, "just let me finish." Han gave her a sad smile before continuing, "and no matter what you may think of me now, there's something I want to tell you." He tentatively reached out and wrapped his hand around hers. Han turned his face to her, his gaze suddenly meeting hers. "I love you," he swallowed. "And I'm not saying this to hurt you, or make this harder on you." He gave her hand a gentle squeeze. "I'm just telling you now, in case you ever had any doubt. Or if you ever thought otherwise." Han gave her another sad smile. "I love you," he repeated softly, "and I just wanted you to know that."

Leia straightened at his words, a small tingling chill raced up her spine. She looked around in awe. It was as if she had finally noticed her surroundings; the dark muggy night, the smooth park bench....The princess turned back to Han, her expression one of utter disbelief. 

//I love you....I just wanted you to know that.//

Leia had heard the words before. Over and over again. In her sleep. Her gaze strayed down to their hands. She noticed the way their fingers were intertwined, and how perfect they seemed to fit. And how _right_ it all felt.

And suddenly she knew. The princess turned her eyes back up to the despondent smuggler at her side. "Han," she said softly. He looked over at her reluctantly, as if petrified of what she might say. Leia gave him a comforting smile, "I love you, too." 

Before he could even respond, the princess leaned up and kissed him firmly on the mouth. And as she felt his arms wrap around her, Leia only knew one thing.

This was where she belonged.

********To be continued.....


	17. Chapter Seventeen

Bailey held up the small statuette with a sour expression on his face. "What is it?" He asked, unable to hide the disappointment in his voice.

Simon leaned over and took the gift from the child's hand. "Why it is an ancient Alderaanian goddess." He kneeled down before his stepson, "there have been many legends written about her, and they say she brought brilliance and wealth to our people."

Bailey gave his stepfather a skeptical look. "Oh," he said weakly, "neat."

Simon chuckled good-naturedly at the boy's lack of enthusiasm. "Well, don't get _too_ excited about it."

The child forced an innocent expression on his face. "No really, Simon. I like it." He smiled weakly at his stepfather, "thank you."

Simon patted the boy lightly on the head. "I just want you to know where you come from.." He handed the statuette back to the boy. "It's important to know your roots. And being Alderaanian is very, _very_ special."

Bailey turned the statuette over in his hands, studying it with half-hearted interest. "I know," he said flatly. What the boy had really hoped to get was a 'Space Racer' helmet. It wasn't that the child didn't like learning about Alderaan, but he had heard all this from his stepfather before. For some reason all this stuff was really important to Simon. Bailey tried to be a good boy about it and pay attention, but sometimes all the Alderaan talk got a little boring. 

"Good, I'm glad you understand me." The boy fidgeted under Simon's suddenly intense stare, "someday you will be a great leader for our people. Perhaps it will be _you_ who will bring wealth and brilliance to New Alderaan." His stepfather smiled broadly and gave the boy's shoulder a friendly squeeze. "How does that sound?"

"It sounds okay, I guess." Bailey looked up at him hesitantly, "but can I still race in my space cruiser too?"

Simon bit back an impatient sigh, and forced a small grin on his face. "Why, certainly," he replied evenly.

"It would actually be a good plan," the child announced proudly, "because I can drive this fortune to these people in my ship." He beamed at Simon in delight, "and then I can bring it to them _fast_!"

"Well," Simon objected lightly, "that's not really what I meant..."

Bailey's face lit up and his voice rose in excitement, "and can I bring some of those credits I bring to New Alderaan also to Correllia?

His stepfather's brows rose in slight disapproval, "Correllia?"

"Well, I'm Correllian too," the boy explained with enthusiasm, "and I wanna share the credits with them so they don't feel left out."

Simon stood up abruptly. "Well..." he said carefully, "I think Correllia can take care of itself. After all, there are _millions_ of them, but there are only a few Aldaraanians." He gave Bailey a tight smile, "besides, being Alderaanian is a lot more special. Let's just concentrate on that, okay?" His stepfather cleared his throat, as if to formerly end the conversation, and then headed back towards the kitchen. 

Bailey suddenly felt a small panic as he watched the man walk away. //He's not mad at me is he?// "Simon, wait!" The boy called in desperation.

Simon paused and looked back at the child. "Yes?"

Bailey ran up to him, his eyes pleading. "Don't go. I didn't mean to make you mad."

His stepfather looked down at him, his expression baffled. "What? I'm not mad-"

"I'm sorry," Bailey looked up at him imploringly, "I was being dumb. I won't share the credits if you don't want me too."

"Bailey, it's all right," Simon explained patiently, "I'm not mad at you." He ruffled the child's hair lightly. "You have a big heart and that's a good thing. Just as long as you don't let it get in the way of your future achievements."

The boy stared up at his stepfather, his eyes wide and nervous. "So you're not mad? You still like me?"

Simon reached down and pulled the boy up in his arms. "Yes, of course I do." He gave the child a comforting smile, "now let's get you tucked in before Mom gets home and sees you're still up." 

And it was then, as he was taking the child back to his bedroom, that Simon realized how late it had gotten. He glanced at his wrist chrono with a mixture of irritation and worry.

//Where was Leia anyway?//

*******

The princess leaned into the crook of Han's arm and sighed contently. The two of them were back on the streets of Coruscant, walking towards her apartment. They had spent the last hour or so talking and Leia tried to fill Han in on some of what had been going on with her, Chewie and Bailey. But she pretty much side-stepped any questions he asked regarding Simon and their marriage. This didn't escape Han's notice, but instead of dwelling on it he tried to lighten the mood. Once was by pointing out that while she had kept pretty busy, he had been doing nothing but literally "hangin' out" for the past seven years. The princess had batted him playfully for his flippant remark, but really it pained her to think of him frozen in carbonite all that time. She looked up at him now with a smile, "You made me forget what I was talking about."

Han grinned down at her, "'Tales of Bailey's mischief'. Chapter twelve."

Leia laughed lightly, "oh yeah. That's right." She shook her head in amusement, "sometimes I think it's a miracle that my hair has not turned completely white by now. Bailey can be a handful." But even as she said this there was a delighted twinkle in her eye which betrayed her complete adoration for the boy. It was obvious to Han how crazy she was about her son. //_Our_ son.// He reminded himself.

Leia suddenly shot Han a nervous look. "But really, he's a very good boy," she amended, "for the most part." The last thing she wanted to do was scare the smuggler off. Maybe it was a little silly for her to worry, he said he *loved* her after all. But it was at that moment that she realized just how desperately she wanted him to love Bailey too. It meant everything to her. 

As if reading her thoughts, Han leaned over and kissed her gently on her brow. "I'm sure he is," he whispered comfortingly, "and I can't wait to meet him."

//Good.// Leia relaxed noticeably in his arms. She smiled absently as her thoughts began to travel back to their time in the park. What an incredible night it had turned out to be. //Han _loves_ me!// Of course she had always known that he had. It had been obvious by the way he looked at her. How he _kissed_ her, touched her. But still, there was still something wonderful about finally hearing him say it. Leia still couldn't believe that this was all happening to her. Here she was, walking in the arms of the man she loved. It was amazing.

"So when can I?" 

The princess straightened and turned her head to him. "What?"

Han looked down at her with a soft expectant expression on his face. "When can I meet Bailey?"

Leia opened her mouth to answer and then closed it. She bit her lip, trying to choose her words carefully. "Soon," she replied, "but not yet." The princess noted Han's questioning look and added, "it's complicated." She sighed and before he could interject said, "I just think that I should really talk to Simon first. Before anything else."

Han nodded in understanding, his face hardening slightly at the mention of her husband. There was an awkward silence between them for a moment as they walked along. The smuggler sighed and Leia could feel his chest move from beneath her weight. "What's wrong," she asked finally.

Han shrugged nonchalantly. "Nothin'," he answered.

Leia halted in her step and gently pulled him to a stop. "Han," she looked up at him, her expression curious. "Come on, tell me what you're thinking."

"I...." he let out a shaky breath, and then quickly shook his head. "Nothing. Really." Han was looking over her head, refusing to meet her gaze.

Leia patted him on the chest, her voice insistent. "No, something's bothering you."

The smuggler finally looked down on her again and swallowed. "I was just wondering what-," he faltered, " what are you going to tell Simon? I mean exactly?"

The princess looked up at him, her brow wrinkling in confusion. "Well, I'll tell him about you, of course."

Han looked down at her, his expression suddenly eager. "No, I understand that. But _what_ are you going to tell him about me?"

Leia shook her head, not understanding what the smuggler was getting at. "I don't know. Just that you're back. You know, and that you want to be in Bailey's life." She shrugged, "I haven't really planned it out yet or anything. I mean you have to admit this is a pretty unusual situation."

Han gave a short nod and led the two of them to start walking again. What he meant to ask the princess, was whether she planned to tell her husband that she was _leaving_ him or not. But suddenly the smuggler found he lost the nerve. "Yeah, you're right," Han finally said his voice tight, "I'm sorry. I'm not trying to make this tougher."

Leia wrapped an arm around his waste and gave him a reassuring squeeze. "You're not," she told him. She gave him a small smile, "and even if you were," she added, "you'd be worth it."

He gave her a grateful grin as the two of them approached her building. As they walked up to the front door, Han felt a feeling of dread mount up inside of him. He didn't want to say good-bye to her. Not yet. Not even for a few hours. 

They stopped before the entrance and Leia looked up at the smuggler, and her eyes conveyed that she shared his misgivings about saying goodnight. The princess smiled shyly as she faced him. "I don't know why," she said trying to keep her voice light, "but I'm scared to let you out of my sight."

Han leaned down and planted a tender kiss on her forehead. "Then don't," he replied softly. He then reached up and gently a brushed a loose strand of hair from her face. "Stay with me."

Leia's mouth curved in amusement, "Where, on Lando's ship?" She gave him a knowing smile, "That might get a little crowded, don't you think?"

Han shrugged his shoulders slightly, "we'll kick him out. Seal the ramp shut. He'll understand." The smuggler gave her a crooked smile, he was only partly kidding. And as Han looked down at the princess, a sudden eagerness appeared in his eyes. His expression became serious. In a low voice he told her, "I want to be with you, Leia."

The princess gazed up at him, her eyes brimming with understanding. "I know," she replied, "I want that too." She hesitated, her eyes straying from his face, "But not yet, it just wouldn't be right." Leia looked back up at him, "you understand, don't you?"

Han blew out a frustrated sigh and nodded slowly. "Yeah," he admitted, "I know." The smuggler flashed her another quick grin, "but I had to give it a shot-didn't I?" He brought his face down to hers, a mischievous glint in his eyes "After all, princess," Han murmured, as he leaned in even closer, "I _am_ a scoundrel-remember?" His breath was hot against her ear.

Leia felt her cheeks flush with excitement. She shook her head in mild protest, amusement lighting her eyes. "No, you're not-" but she was cut off by the sudden warm pressure of his lips against hers. Suddenly she forgot what she was even going to say. All she could concentrate on was the sensations of his mouth on her. She let out a light moan as she felt the pressure of his lips stray from hers, creating a light trail along her jaw. "Good night, princess," he finally breathed into her ear.

And suddenly he stepped back, a suggestive grin on his face. "Just wanna make sure you think of me tonight." 

Leia felt another rush of warmth flood her cheeks. "As if I could think of anything else," there was a teasing light in her eyes, "scoundrel."

Han chuckled, his smile broadening. "But that's why you love me," his voice rose light heartedly as he took a few steps backwards, "so I wouldn't dare change my ways now."

The princess shook her head in amusement and then gave him a soft smile. Her expression sobered. "Good night, Han" she said reluctantly. Leia gave him one last longing look and then turned to go into the building.

Han grinned as he watched her go inside. He was going to miss her, even over these next few hours until he saw her again. But he was also so overwhelmed with happiness about what had transpired this evening that he was almost giddy. The smuggler was in such a good mood that he even felt like he could even treat _Lando_ to a drink. Han shook his head in amused disbelief. But at the moment he really couldn't force himself to be bothered by anything. He had his princess back, and he wanted to celebrate.

The smuggler turned suddenly, only to walk head-on into someone blocking his path. Han looked up at the man in surprise, "Malcolm?"

The sand trader glared at him with his arms crossed against his chest. "Captain Solo," he said evenly, "I have been looking all over for you."

********

Han Solo glared at the sandtrader who stood before him. The man's stocky frame successfully blocking him from walking any further. Han twisted his mouth into an impatient sneer, "well it looks like you found me, Malcolm. Now what do you want?"

The older man smiled in satisfaction and rocked back on his heels. "Let's just say that you're worth quite a bit of money to me."

Han raised his eyebrows in light amusement, his anger quickly fading. "I am?" He chuckled, "how?" The smuggler shook his head in disbelief. "I don't know if you noticed, but I'm broke. Any credits I _did_ have wouldn't be worth-" but his voice faltered. Han's face hardened as a frightening realization washed over him. "Wait, a second..." He gave the sandtrader a cool glare and thrust an enraged finger in his face. "If you even try to turn me over...." Han took a steadying breath, "if I even see you go near a bounty hunter Malcolm, I'll take you down with me. I swear I will."

The older man was taken aback. "What?"

The smuggler jutted his chin out at him. "I mean it. Don't test me on this. I just got my life back, and I'll be damned if I let some desperate greedy little filth like yourself take if from me."

Malcolm raised his palms defensively, "you got it all wrong, Captain Solo." He shook his head in denial, but his voice was steady, "I have no intention of turning you over to anybody." He gave the smuggler a good-natured smirk, "I can see that you don't think too highly of me, but I assure you that I don't do business with that sort."

Han let his shoulders sag in relief, but he was still reluctant to trust the guy. "Really?"

"Would I have turned you over to Lando Calrissian, otherwise?"

The smuggler gave Malcolm a double-take. "What? Wait-" he stammered in disbelief, "it was _you_ who found me?"

The older man smiled, "yes. Me and Xavier." His grin disappeared and he resumed his stony business only expression. "And let's just say that until we get compensated for our find, you belong to us."

Han's mouth curved up in mild amusement. "In other words, you want a reward for me."

Malcolm shrugged in agreement, "well, if that's what you want to call it-then yes."

The smuggler turned his head, the smile never leaving his face. "A reward...." He looked back up at the sandtrader, "trust me, Malcolm," he said, his voice filled with mirth, "I understand you better than you think."

Malcolm raised a doubtful eyebrow but didn't say anything.

"So, I'm curious," Han continued on in a light hearted voice, "do you know who are you going to hit up for these credits?"

Malcolm smiled evenly. "The Princess' husband."

The smuggler let out a bellowing laugh. "Simon?" He shook his head in amused disbelief. "Malcolm," he said with a smirk, "you've been smoking spice if you actually believe Leia's _husband_ would give you _anything_ for me." Han couldn't believe how startlingly oblivious this guy was. "You mention my name and I bet he'll actually beg you to stick me _back_ into the carbon freeze."

"You're wrong."

"Oh, I doubt that." Han snorted, "trust me. You won't see a single credit."

"You're wrong," Malcolm repeated patiently. "I have already met with the man. This evening."

"What?" Han was incredulous.

The sandtrader couldn't keep the satisfaction out of his voice, "he's already agreed to pay me." Malcolm smiled, "plus a little extra."

The smuggler was baffled. "What? Why?"

The older man shrugged. "How am I supposed to know? The only condition was that I find you."

Han shook his head in disbelief, his mind was reeling. "But why would he-?"

Malcolm continued on, his voice rising with satisfaction, "He promised he would give me what I wanted and more," the sandtrader met Han's questioning gaze with an unflinching coolness, "And all he wants in return is to meet with you first."

********

Leia entered her dark apartment with a dreamy grin on her face. The door slid shut behind her with a quiet hiss, and she let herself fall against it in a happy daze. There was no way to erase her smile, it was impossible. She licked her lips absently, still relishing the warmth of his kiss.

Then the princess shook her head in amusement as she remembered the last thing he had called to her. She was glad to see that he hadn't changed. Even underneath the present confusion they were now facing, Han was still the same endearing smuggler that she had fallen in love with. 

And yes, she still loved him. With an amazing fierceness that almost surprised her. 

Leia headed down the hallway towards the kitchen, noting vaguely how quiet the place was. Everyone must have been in bed. //How long was I gone?// 

The princess walked into the kitchen and made her way over to the fridge unit. She wasn't even going to try to sleep yet. She knew it would be pointless. Her mind would just be spinning away with thoughts about Han, and when she would see him again. Besides, then she would have to face Simon. And Leia really didn't feel up to dealing with him yet. She couldn't even imagine slipping into their bed and sleeping next to him. And gods forbid if he were actually still awake....

Leia pulled out a container of juice and was startled by a sudden sound coming from the corner of the room. The princess turned with a start and her eyes widened as she took in the presence of a familiar silhouette at the table. "Simon?"

There was a 'clink' as her husband set down a glass. He was drinking. His posture was relaxed as opposed to the rigidness he usually carried himself with. "Where have you been?" His voice was devoid of any emotion. 

The princess swallowed and shut the fridge slowly. Suddenly she felt like her heart was racing at hyperspeed. Leia wasn't sure why she was so nervous. She feigned a casual look, "oh, just out- talking with someone." Well, she wasn't lying to him. That was true enough. "Why are you sitting in the dark like this?" She asked this lightly, hoping to divert his attention.

"With _who_?" His voice was hard, Simon had no intention of being distracted.

"Just a man," Leia answered shortly, as she walked over to flick on a switch.

Simon squinted as the kitchen was suddenly bathed with a warm light. 

Leia turned to him, and added hurriedly, "I'm sorry I didn't call you, Simon. That was very inconsiderate." She winced at the rushed sound of her voice. She _sounded_ guilty. Leia looked at her husband and forced a casual smile. "It won't happen again."

Simon nodded his head slowly, his expression impossible to read. "You were out with a man." He said his tone flat. "_Just_ a man," and then he chuckled, but it was devoid of any trace of amusement. "Did you have a good time, _Princess_?"

Leia shrugged innocently. "It was just business," she was amazed with the ease in which the lie flew out of her mouth. But of course, she had had a lot of practice during her time in the Imperial Senate. And Simon was hardly as imposing as Darth Vader. 

Simon smirked in disbelief. "Business?" //She must really think I'm stupid.// His eyebrow rose in sardonic amusement, "and tell me, beloved wife, do high ranking government officials now double as low grade space pilots in their off-time?"

Leia sighed in annoyance, a part of her itching to defend Han, while the other half just wanted to end the conversation all together. "He was a _voter_ Simon," she said finally. The princess really did want to be honest, get this all out in the open as soon as possible. But not like this. Not when Simon had been drinking and it was obvious he was looking for a fight. "I owe it to Mon Mothma to hear any New Republic citizen out. It's part of my job."

"Your _job_?" Simon snorted, "well, just make sure that when you are out 'collecting votes' for your boss, you don't forget your wedding vows."

Leia glared at her husband, her mouth gaped open in angry disbelief. "And what exactly does _that_ mean?"

"It means what you think it means," he gave her a cool smile, "sweetie."

Leia could feel her cheeks warm with anger, "Simon," she spat, "I really don't think _you_ should preach to me about fidelity." 

Simon straightened in his seat. This was not the turn he had wanted this conversation to take. He had pushed her too far. Simon cleared his throat, and softened his tone. "Just what are you implying, Princess?" He allowed a trace of hurt to enter his voice. 

Simon now realized that lashing out on the his wife was just making her angrier, and it was time to back off a little. After all, he wanted to _save_ his marriage, not destroy it. But sitting here over the last hour or so, thinking about that pirate Solo had filled him with such a seething rage that he had been unable to stop himself. And the alcohol didn't help. It was effecting his judgment. Simon had to keep a cool head here. Play his proverbial cards right. 

Leia gave him a hard look, her gaze searching his face. The truth is, she didn't know *what* she was suggesting with that last remark. That is, she didn't know if she was right. It was just a nagging suspicion at this point, nothing she could accuse him of with certainty. "I don't know," she finally replied softly, her shoulders sagging. "Nothing, I guess." Leia turned away from her husband. "I'm going to bed," she mumbled weakly, as she headed for the door. The princess paused before exiting, and turned back to her husband with a sober expression on her face. "Tomorrow morning, Simon-we have to talk."

Simon suddenly felt a stab of panic at the seriousness of her statement. He _had_ pushed her too far. Anxious, her husband jumped out of his seat with a start, "I'm sorry, Leia," he blurted. There was a pleading in his voice, "really. I was just so _worried_ about you...I-I didn't really mean what I said."

The princess' expression softened a little. She gave him a long look, an unspoken mixture of sadness and regret filling her eyes. "Good night, Simon," she said finally, her tone dull. Then without another word, she turned back towards the door and left.

"No wait..!" Simon fell back into his seat in defeat. He pressed a frustrated hand against his forehead. Oh, he knew what Leia wanted to talk to him about. With a fiery dread in his stomach, he knew. 

Simon lifted up his glass to take another drink, but then realized that it was already empty. He slammed it angerly against the table. 

//That Solo is not taking my family.// He had invested too much into them. //And Bailey!// Simon loved that little boy. And the princess. She was after all _his_ wife.

Her words echoed through his mind: //Tomorrow morning...we have to talk.//

That's what Leia had said. Well, fine. They would talk then. Simon gave a satisfactory smile. He would just have to take care of the smuggler before that. 

No problem.


	18. Chapter Eighteen

Han sat slumped over the bar, his head rested firmly in his hands. It had been a long night. He had tossed and turned for hours, his mind reeling with what Malcolm had told him. Simon wanted to meet with him. _Is_ going to meet with him. And that meeting was now only minutes away.

Han rubbed his forehead tiredly as he tried in vain to block out the incessent drone of the crowded cantina. Even at this early hour in the morning, the place was packed. The smuggler looked around the place with a wary eye, but he figured that most of this crowd had probably not left since they had begun their drinking the night before. He shook his head and shot the older man at his side a disdainful look, "for a man that claims to have a lot of class, Simon sure knows how to pick 'em."

Malcolm gave the smuggler a smirk, "perhaps he just wants to make sure you feel at home."

Han was not amused. "Nice," he replied evenly. He was in no mood for any of the sandtrader's cute comments at the moment. His mind was too distracted by his pending meeting with Simon. He just couldn't figure it out, what did Simon want with him?

Obviously, he knew that it couldn't be good. He doubted very much that Leia's husband planned to graciously step aside with a bow and declare, "take my family, Captain Solo. They're all yours." But at the same time, he couldn't picture the man coming in with his fists flying, either. That just didn't seem like Simon's style. Besides, Han knew he could easily take him down, and he was pretty sure that Leia's husband realized that too.

Han's jaw clenched with frustration. But still, it was going to be ugly. There was simply no way that it _couldn't_ be. Simon wouldn't give up, and Han certainly wasn't going to step aside. After all, Leia loved _him_ and Bailey was _his_ son. They were his family. How could he be expected to hand over the love of his life and the child he hadn't even met yet?

The smuggler turned back towards Malcolm with an inquisitive look. "Come on, you have to have _some_ idea of what this is all about."

Malcolm stifled a sigh of annoyance as his mouth hovered just above his ale glass. "I _told_ you a million times, Solo. Simon didn't tell me. All I know is what I told you."

"Well tell me again then," Han mumbled as he took another quick glance around the cantina.

Malcolm set his glass down with a resigned 'clink'. He wanted to be sure that the smuggler knew how irritated he was at the moment."He woke me up this morning with a call, and said 'Malcolm, make sure Solo is at the spacelane five cantina in 30 minutes. I want to get this meeting over and done with as soon as possible.'"

"And then what did he say?"

Malcolm shot the smuggler a pointed look. "Nothing. He hung up. That's _it_."

Han shook his head. "Doesn't make sense...unless-" The smuggler gave the older man a second look, "you're not setting me up for a blaster burn in the back, are you Malcolm?"

"Course not!" The sandtrader was offended at the very idea.

"Good." Han gave him a crooked smile, "don't worry, I know you're not really _that_ bad."

Malcolm shot him a dubious look. "Thanks so much for your vote of confidence." The older man suddenly nodded his chin down towards the end of the bar. "What do you think of her?" He asked, motioning to a young woman sitting at the end. She sat sipping at a tall drink, her large eyes gazing unabashedly in their direction.

Han shrugged, "she's okay, I guess."

Malcolm raised an eyebrow at the smuggler's flippant response. "Okay? _Just_ okay?"

Han sighed and gave her another look. He turned back to the older man, "fine, she's very pretty. So?"

Malcolm smiled knowingly, "she's been checking you out for the past ten minutes." He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, "you wanna go over there?"

Han shook his head a small smile creeping at the corners of his mouth. "No thanks, not interested."

"Mind if I try then?"

The smuggler gave a snort of indifference, "you go right ahead."

Malcolm pushed himself away from the bar, but was stopped by a sudden friendly smack on the back. The two men turned to see Leia's husband beaming good-naturedly, his hands resting companionably on their shoulders as if they were all old friends. "Gentlemen," he announced loudly, "so glad to see you could make it."

Han eyed the man warily. He was immaculately dressed, his clothes finely pressed and not a strand of hair out of place. But there were dark bags under his eyes, and a light shade of growth on his chin. It didn't seem Simon had gotten much sleep the night before either. The smuggler gave the man a hard look. "Simon," he said evenly.

Leia's husband turned to the smuggler, his grin never fading. "So, you've heard of me." The man then looked over at Malcolm and said pleasantly, "Captain Solo and I are just going to have ourselves a little chat over at one of those tables." He motioned his head towards the back corner of the cantina, "wait here for me here, and we'll discuss your-" he cleared his throat, "compensation." 

Malcolm gave a nod of acknowledgment and Simon turned back to the smuggler. "Come on Captain, let's get us a couple of drinks and have a seat."

Han didn't really think he could stomach much at this time of the morning, but Simon was already leaning over the bar and demanding a couple of strong Alderaanian specials. He smiled pleasantly at the female barmaid as she handed over their drinks. And it didn't escape Han's notice when Simon shot her a flirtatious wink before he pushing away from the bar. He gave Han another quick glance and then led them to a table in the back.

Simon selected a corner booth and slid in casually, careful not to spill their drinks. He smiled up at the smuggler, his expression awash with insincerity. "Please, get comfortable and we can have ourselves a friendly little conversation." He held one of the drinks out for Han. "Please," he repeated.

Han reluctantly took the glass from the man's hand. "I'll stand," he managed in a cool voice.

Simon shook his head in feigned amusement. He made a little 'tsk tsk' sound with his mouth, it was barely audible over the drone of the cantina. "Come on, Captain Solo," he began, "let's try to be civilized here. I have no intention of turning this into some low-grade spacer's brawl." His voice was light, but it had an underlying malice beneath it. "Surely, even you are not below discussing things like a gentleman?"

Han glared at the man, and had to bite back the urge to lunge at him in anger. "Of course not." He reluctantly took a seat across from the man. 

Simon gave the captain a smug smile. "I imagine it must be wonderful to finally be free of the..." he hesitated his eyes straying upward as he searched his memory. His grin never faded, "the carbonite was it?"

"Yes," the smuggler continued to glare at the man steadily.

"Excellent," Simon made a show of brushing some lint off his sleeve and then gave Han another pleasant look. "How marvelous for you. I bet you are eager to return to the stars, am I right?"

Han peered at the man suspiciously before answering, "I'm looking foward to flying again, yeah."

Simon nodded amicably, "return to your life. Travel the galaxy..." His brow rose slightly as if something had just occurred to him, "ooh, and I bet you can't wait to hook up with Chewbacca. Your old 'partner in crime' as they say." Simon chuckled, "but of course, I guess that would be more literal in your case." The man was pleased with his own cleverness.

Han didn't respond right away, he decided to ignore the jab. He looked at Simon, his eyes searching the man's face questioningly. "Well, yeah. Of course I want to see Chewie." Han shifted uncomfortably in his seat before finally leaning foward. "Simon," he said in a low voice, "why don't you just get to the point, okay?"

Simon widened his eyes in mock innocence. "Well, I'm just thinking out loud here...." He turned his gaze up at the ceiling, absently rolling the glass between his hands. "With such a glamerous lifestyle as yours, flying from planet to planet, well-" The man looked back at Han and his gaze hardened, and his hands paused in their work. "It just seems that there isn't much room in there for a child." He smiled evenly, "or a princess."

Han fell back in his seat, his steely stare never leaving Simon. "So that's what this is about."

"Don't act so surprised Captain," all pretense of friendliness was now absent from the man's tone, and his expression sobered. "You knew very well what this would be about."

Han gave a conceding nod, "yeah, of course I did." The corner of his mouth turned up in a sardonic amusement, "but if you honestly think I'm just going to take off with Chewie and never look back then you're setting yourself up for a disapointment." 

Simon raised a brow at this but didn't say anything.

"I plan on sticking around for awhile," Han shrugged, "who knows. Maybe I'll find a job around here. Good pilots are always in demand."

Simon took in a sharp breath and when he spoke it was obvious that he was displeased with the smuggler's response. "Please, Captain Solo. Let's be realistic here for a moment."

Han raised an eyebrow, "I'm sorry. I thought I _was_ being _realistic_."

The man stuck his chin out, his fingers suddenly tapping restlessly against the edge of the table. He was slowly losing his cool. "Just what do you think you are going to do? Hmm?" Simon smacked his fingers against he the table a little harder, as if to punctuate his sentence. He then leaned foward, his voice raised in anger, "you think you can just come along and disrupt everyone's lives at your convenience?"

Han shook his head, his face incredulous. "_Convenience_??" He could feel his control thinning rapidly as his anger mounted. "How dare you, Simon." He thrust an angry finger in the man's direction. "Don't sit here and pretend that I consciously abandoned my family. You know damn well this whole thing was out of my control."

Simon's nostrils flared, he was incensed at Solo's nerve. Talking to him as if he were one of the smuggler's common spacer companions. "That may be the case as of right now," he began in furious hiss, "but please don't try to delude yourself-or _me_-into seriously thinking that you are here for _good_." Simon's breaths were coming out in angry rasps. "I know you, Solo."

"Oh-oh really?" Han stammered furiously, "you know me??"

"I _know_ you," Simon continued evenly, ignoring the smuggler's enraged glare of denial. "And I know your _kind_. Oh, you'll stick around for awhile," he conceded, "maybe even a few years. You'll fill the princess with your empty promises. You'll take in that poor boy and make him trust you." Simon's mouth tightened with emotion, "he'll love you--I know he will. And then just as everyone gets comfortable and content--that's when you'll get _bored_."

Han was incredulous, "how dare you think-"

"-you'll get _bored_!!" Simon continued hotly, his voice rising. "and then when you take off to appease your restlessness, you won't give a second thought to the wrecked family you leave in your wake."

Han could hear the blood racing past his ears as he glared at the man. "That's _not_ going to happen," he bit out carefully. "I _love_ Leia."

Simon snorted and his body relaxed against the seat. "Sure you do," he replied snidely, "_this_ week."

Han abruptly jumped to his feet, knocking over his glass in the process. He was enraged. Simon flinched back nervously as the smuggler stood over him his fists clenched tightly at his sides. The man could feel Solo's spilled drink dribbling into his lap, but he didn't dare move. Han was looking for a fight and Simon was going to have to tread more carefully. His eyes darted around the cantina nervously, but it didn't seem that anyone had taken notice of them. Which of course was why Simon had asked to meet here in the first place. The anonymity. Now he was second-guessing that decision. Simon swallowed. He decided to change tactics. "If you really love her," he began carefully, "then you will hear me out."

"Go to hell."

Simon rose to his feet slowly, his hands held up defensively. "Listen, okay, you _do_ love the princess. Fine. I believe you."

Han couldn't believe this guy's nerve. "I don't really care if you believe me or not," he replied evenly.

Simon straightened. He wanted meet the smuggler eye-to eye, but to his chagrin he noted that he stood a few inches shorter than the pilot. Simon cleared his throat, as if trying to rally up some hidden reserve of dignity. "Fair enough," he answered tightly. "But you better believe this: Leia and Bailey are better off without you. And if you were to really think about this you would realize I was right."

Han's jaw clenched in anger. "Well, I think we should leave that up to Leia to decide." 

Simon gave a derisive snort. "The princess? Are you kidding?" He shook his head, "she's hardly in any state to look at this rationally."

Han swallowed, his voice was tight as he replied, "I don't know. She's always seemed quite rational to me."

Simon gave him a wane smile. "Sure," he replied smugly, "if becoming involved with the likes of you in the first place could ever be considered 'rational'."

Han had heard enough. His hand flew out and pulled Simon up by his collar. The smuggler's nose was just inches from the man's startled expression. "I should throw you through a wall."

"Do it," Simon said, his voice suddenly trembling. "And I'll have you arrested."

Han's mouth curved into a sneer. "You think jail scares me?" He taunted, "I'm a _criminal_ remember? Isn't that you said?" 

Simon swallowed, his eyes bulging in fear as he hung from the smuggler's grip. "Okay, okay!" He sputtered defensively, "I'm sorry! Just hear me out."

Han's grip tightened on the man's shirt. "No," he replied darkly, "I think I've heard enough."

"Listen to me," the man pleaded, his voice straining under a tightly controlled panic. "I want to make this easy for you. I really do."

"Sure you do," the smuggler spat, suddenly turning and pushing the frightened man up against a wall.

"I'll pay you!" Simon blurted in desperation, "Twenty thousand credits!"

Han loosened his grip on the man's collar, "what?"

Simon, sensing that he had gotten through to the enraged smuggler, relaxed slightly. "All you have to do is fly away on your ship and never come back." 

Han slowly lowered the man back to the ground and released his hold. He shook his head, his voice filled with awed disbelief. "You're serious."

"Completely." Simon reached into his back pocket and pulled out a small data card. He held it up for the smuggler to see. "It's all right here: twenty-thousand credits. It's _yours_. And all you have to do is disapear."

Han looked at the man in utter amazement. "And you actually thought I would go for this?"

"I _know_ you will." Simon answered confidently.

Han glared at him, his expression stunned. "You people are something else. You really think you can buy anything or anybody, don't you?"

"Everyone has a price, Captain Solo." Simon let a satisfied smile creep over his face, "and after all, you've accepted money in exchange for the princess before. What would make this time any different?"

The smuggler shook his head, his mind still trying to comprehend the very _nerve_ of this man. "Unbelievable..." he muttered, his eyes straying to the floor.

"Think of how much you could do with this money," Simon continued, his voice resuming that insincere friendly tone, "why you could pay off all your debts. With the rest you and Chewbacca would still be able to live quite comfortably until you resume your, " he hesitated, "_employment_."

Han shot Leia's husband a questioning look, "me _and_ Chewie?"

Simon smiled thinly, "why yes. Naturally I would expect you to take the wookiee with you. Actually," he amended, "I would _insist_ that you take him."

Han looked at the man incredulously, his anger slowly starting to build up in him again. This guy was trying to get rid of both him and Chewie in one foul swoop. And for what? Twenty thousand credits? Did Simon really think so little of his own wife and stepson that he could put a credit value on them? Han could feel his stomach lurch violently at the very idea. As if the princess and their child were merely property of Simon's that could be bought and sold.

The smuggler could feel the muscles in his jaw clench with anger. He motioned to the card in Simon's hand. "Let me see that," he said coolly.

Simon smiled pleasantly, convinced that he had finally been able to get through to the greedy space pilot. He handed Han the card. "Of course, I would insist you that you leave by tomorrow morning." He cleared his throat, "and no seeing my wife or child before then."

Han nodded absently as he looked down at the card. He ran his thumb lightly over the bank code engraved across the front. He had never held so much money in his hand before. It felt strange. "You know what the first thing I'm going to do with all this money?"

Simon smiled indulgently, "What?" He crossed his arms patiently and waited for the smuggler's answer.

Han looked back up the man, his mouth suddenly contorting into a sneer. "This," he said, taking the card into his palm and cracking it in half as he made a fist.

Simon's eyes widened, "wha-what do you think you're doing??" He stammered in disbelief, "tha-that was a small fortune!"

Han raised his eyebrows, "oh yeah?" He opened his fist and dropped the broken card onto the table. "Now it's worthless."

Simon eyed the two halves of the card in astonishment, as they were now soaking in a puddle of spilled alcohol. He looked back up at the smuggler, his gaze hard with anger. "You are a very stupid man, Captain Solo."

"Maybe," Han gave him a cool smile, "but I'm also still your problem, and I'm not going anywhere. Get used to it."

Simon didn't know what to say. This was _not_ how it was supposed to go. The smuggler had to have a price. _Everyone_ did. And certainly the Han Solo he had heard about did. So what had happened? Simon watched as the smuggler pushed his way through the crowd, making his way to the exit. And no doubt on his way to see his precious princess, Simon thought snidely. //The man was pathetic.// 

Simon smirked in amusement as a young woman went up to the smuggler and brazenly threw her arms around his waste. Leia's husband wasn't positive, but he was pretty sure that he had seen her sitting at the end of the bar earlier. //She's cute.// Maybe Solo would hang himself right now. But Simon was disapointed as he watched Han promptly disentangle himself from the woman's embrace. The pilot just mumbled a few words to her and kept walking. Simon shook his head with a snort, //that smuggler is unbelievable.// You'd think the man was allergic to opportunity the way he kept blowing it off. 

Simon blew out a frustrated sigh as Solo finally pushed his way out the front door. //Dammit.// He really _did_ still have a problem on his hands. A big one. And he needed another plan. Simon shot a quick glance around the cantina, as if desperately searching for inspiration. His eyes caught on the slouched sandtrader still waiting for him at the bar. //Malcolm.// Simon gave a small smile of satisfaction. So maybe Han Solo really *didn't* have a price. But he knew someone who definitely did.

Simon could already feel his spirits returning as he made his way towards the older man. Like any great poilitcal strategist, it was always key to have a back up plan.

And this one was fool-proof. He knew with confidence that it would erase the problem.

Permanently.

*to be continued....* 


	19. Chapter Nineteen

Simon shot the older man a cool smile as he signaled the barmaid for another round of drinks. Malcolm returned the look with a skeptical scowl. "I don't know..." he muttered softly, shaking his head. "Solo seems like a pretty decent guy to me. I don't wanna-"

"-_You_ wouldn't _really_ be doing anything," Simon interrupted, his voice insistent, "that's the beauty of it."

Malcolm cocked an eyebrow, "yes, I would be. Indirectly maybe," he turned away, "but I definitely would be."

Simon gave a nod of acknowledgement to the barmaid as she set down two more drinks. He turned back to the sandtrader and gave him an imploring stare. "Come on, Malcolm. All I ask is that you make the deal for me. It's not like you'll actually be-" Simon hesitated and cast a wary glance around the cantina. He lowered his voice to an urgent hush, "it's not like I'm asking you to pull the trigger."

Malcolm to a sip from the new drink, his expression thoughtful. "Still...." he tapped his knuckles absently against the bar. He was obviously struggling with this decision. "It would mean I would have to go back to Tatooine..." 

"Yes, but only temporarily," Simon insisted, "then you would _never_ have to go back."

Malcolm gave him a sour look. "Why can't you just do this yourself?"

"You know damn well why I can't," the man bit back defensively, "I wouldn't know the first thing about contacting a-a bounty hunter." Simon spat out the word like it tasted bad, "and second of all, I can't have this traced back to me. How would that look?"

Malcolm gave him a sneer, "but it can be traced back to me, right?" The older man shook his head in disgust, "why not, I'm just another second-class low life. Me and Solo are two of a kind that way." He threw Simon a hard look, "we're both completely expendable."

"Oh come off it," the man snorted, "stop acting like I'm the second Palpatine and listen to me," Simon leaned closer, "I am offering you enough credits to make your life on Tatooine seem like some distant horrible nightmare." He placed a companionable hand on the older man's shoulder, "remember all that poverty, the begging in the streets..." Simon shook his head in feigned sympathy, as if he could barely even imagine the horror of it all. "With the money I am offering you Malcolm, you would never have to worry about that again. No more scavenging in the hot desert sands looking for scraps of metal. No more wondering where your next meal is going to come from. With these credits you could afford the finest living conditions, and you would never ever have to go hungry.."

The older man gazed down into his drink. He appeared to be considering this. He gave Simon another dubious look, "but still, how would I live with myself?" He shook his head, "I heard the stories around Mos Eisley. I mean if a bounty hunter _did_ catch him, it's unlikely that Solo would come out of it alive." Malcolm's expression became mournful, "and I would always know I was partly responsible." His gaze hardened, "it would still be _murder_ Simon."

The man's eyes widened and he shot a panicked glance around the cantina. He motioned for Malcolm to lower his voice. "Trust me," he hissed, "Solo's got a price on his head so high that it would only be a matter of time before some bounty hunter knocked on his door." Simon leaned over even closer, and Malcolm could literally smell the alcohol that laced his breath. "Do you hear what I'm telling you? Solo's a dead man anyway. Once word gets out that he's actually alive, I give him a couple of months at best." He gave Malcolm a knowing smile, "At least this way, if you help me, you can make a shipload of credits out of it."

Malcolm was silent a moment. He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. Simon _did_ have a point. Han Solo _would_ be a wanted man. Plus, once word got around about how the smuggler had managed to survive even the late Boba Fett, it would make him all the more alluring to bounty hunters. Solo's days probably _were_ numbered, the sandtrader reasoned. And with the money Simon was offering, Malcolm could start a whole new life. Both him and Xavier. They wouldn't have a care in the galaxy. 

The sandtrader blew out a resigned sigh. Although this decision pained him, Malcolm knew what he had to do. He looked over at the other man. "So tell me," he finally said, "when do I go?"

Simon smiled in satisfaction, and tilted his drink up at the older man. "I'll make the arrangments," he said jovially, "if all goes well, you'll be on your way to Tatooine by tonight."

********

Leia eyed the clutter of the kitchen table with disgust. Simon's abandoned liquor bottles stood out like dark blemishes even in the disarray. She bit her lip in tired frustration. //What a mess.//

And of course Simon had left it for her to clean up. She shook her head in irritated disbelief. How _typical_. Giving no thought except for himself. He just upped and disapeared. And after she had specifically _told_ him that she needed to talk to him this morning. 

Leia blew out a sigh of resignation. Well, the least she could do was make sure this was all cleaned up before Bailey woke up. The last thing she wanted was for the little boy to see what his stepfather had been up to the night before. 

The princess had begun clearing the table when she heard the buzz of the front door. She looked down the hall in mild surprise. //Who could that be at this time in the morning?// With an irrational stab of panic, she suddenly imagined Mon Mothma waiting behind the door. As if coming to see first hand whether the princess' 'illness' really warranted a second day off. Leia began swiping things off the table more frantically. "Threepio," she called, her arms now brimming with empty bottles and trash, "can you get that?" 

The buzzer sounded again and Leia muttered in annoyance as she dumped an armful into the garbage. "Threepio!" She called impatiently. Still she heard no reply. That's right, she remembered suddenly, Chewie had taken the droid with him this morning to work on the falcon. He had left a note on the fridge unit. 

Leia blew out her cheeks in irritation as she made her way to the front door. Whoever it was they were certainly impatient. She absently patted at her hair as she reached to palm the door open. Didn't people realize that there were still some sleeping at this hour??

But the princess felt her annoyance instantly melt away as the door slid opened to reveal a familiar form. "Han," she gasped in pleasant surprise, "what are you doing here?"

The smuggler looked tense, but he managed a crooked smile, "I came to see you."

Leia threw a nervous glance over her shoulder, "but Bailey's here," she said in an urgent hush. 

Han's face brightened, "he is?" He eagerly peered over the princess' head. "Can I see him?"

Leia smiled as she pushed the smuggler back into the outside hallway. "He's still sleeping," she explained in a whisper, "besides I don't think we should just spring you on him."

"Why not?" He asked with a grin, "I kinda just sprang myself on you last night and you seemed to take it pretty well."

Leia's mouth curved up in amusement, "yes, but if you remember correctly, that was only after I almost passed out in your arms."

"Remember?" Han reached out with an arm around her waist and pulled her closer, "that was probably my favorite part."

Leia could feel her cheeks warm with pleasure as she gazed up at him. She rolled her eyes in mock annoyance. "Somehow, you saying that doesn't surprise me."

Han gave her a mischeivous grin, "oh yeah?" He lowered his face to hers, "Gimme a second chance, I bet I could still surprise you," he whispered. And before the princess could reply, his lips were brushing against hers.

Leia gave into the pleasure of the kiss for a moment, but then with a start, she realized how public they were and pulled away. "Wait," she breathed, "someone might see us." She was, after all, still a married woman. What would her neighbors think? And they might tell Simon.

//Simon!//

Leia looked up at Han with sudden alarm. "You have to leave."

Han's brow shot up in hurt confusion. "What?"

The princess shook her head, "I don't know when Simon is coming back, and I haven't had the chance to tell him about you, yet."

The smuggler's face sobered and he reached up with a hand and lightly stroked her cheek. "Leia," he said, his voice suddenly serious, "he all ready knows."

Her expression twisted in confusion, "what?"

"I just talked to him," Han's brow rose in disbelief, "you mean, he didn't tell you he knew?"

"No, I-" Leia's mind was suddenly reeling. //Simon _knew_??// "Wait a second," she looked up at him with an incredulous expression on her face. "You just _talked_ to him??"

Han nodded. "Yeah, he wanted to meet with me."

Leia was floored. She shook her head numbly, her thoughts racing faster than she could think them. //What was going on here?// The princess cast a quick cautious glance around the hall and then pulled Han into her apartment. She palmed the door shut behind them and then looked up at the smuggler with a million questions on her face. "Wha-what happened?"

Han shrugged and looked away. "Nothin' much," he mumbled.

The princess wasn't buying it. "Come on, _something_ went on. Why did he want to meet?" Leia was having trouble even comprehending all this, "h-how did he even _know_ about you in the first place?"

"I don't know," Han looked down at her and gave a small smile, "I guess good news travels fast."

His weak attempt at lightening the mood had no effect on the princess. She shook her head. "But what did he want?" //And why didn't I know about this?//

Han gave another casual shrug of the shoulders. "It was nothing," and reading her questioning expression he added, "it was just the usual, boring 'you stay away from my wife' routine." He forced a weak grin, "you know how that goes." 

"No, I don't," Leia answered with all seriousness, "this sort of thing has never happened to me before." She gave Han an imploring look, "but what did he say to you? I mean _exactly_?"

"What does it really matter?"

The princess bit her lip. She didn't know why it mattered, it just did. It horrified her to think of what Simon might have said to him. She knew how much her husband resented Han. It was obvious from the beginning. Not that Leia could blame the man, she sort of made his feelings toward the smuggler unavoidable. She knew that.. And even though she knew that Han would be more than able to handle it, it still bothered her to think of him on the receiving end of all that built up hatred. Simon could sting, and she knew what that could feel like. The princess looked up at Han, and her eyes wide and apologetic. "Well, for whatever he may of said to you," she uttered softly, "I'm sorry."

"Hey," Han replied, his head shaking slowly, "don't apologize for him." 

Leia's gaze strayed to the ground, "I know, but I-"

"No, really." He insisted, "it wasn't a big deal." The smuggler tilted her chin up with a finger and gave her an encouraging smile. "So what? Big newsflash: your husband doesn't think I'm good enough for you." Han shrugged, "He's probably right. After all, that's nothing I haven't told myself a million times." Leia opened her mouth to protest, but Han wasn't finished, "but you know what, Princess?" He was suddenly gazing right into her, and his voice hardened. "He's not good enough for you either." 

Leia shook her head, "He's usually not this bad. It's partly my fault, I-"

"No," Han's voice was firm, "it's not. Don't say that." He could feel his jaw tighten at the thought of Simon. "He doesn't deserve your excuses. Or your sympathy." Han swallowed, "and he certainly doesn't deserve the several years he got to spend with you."

Leia opened her mouth to protest, but she didn't know what to say. She wanted to explain that Simon hadn't always been like this. That he had once been a kind, compassionate man. But she had never been able to love him. Not like she loved Han. That it really _was_ her fault, but she couldn't get the words out. Leia just gazed up at the smuggler and suddenly she could remember only one thing."I love you." She said, her voice wistful, "I mean I really, _really_ love you."

Han's expression softened, and a small smile crept onto his lips. "I love you too," he replied. "Really." 

Leia grinned up at him, and his face was closing in on hers again. She could feel her cheeks flush with knowing anticipation, and just as his lips were barely hovering above hers, she felt Han's head jerk away with a start. And as Leia heard the approaching sound of padded feet, she suddenly understood why.

"Hey Momma," a child's voice called sleepily, "who are you talking to?"

The princess stiffened in Han's embrace. She shot him a panicked look before turning toward the boy with a rigid slowness. "Hey Bail," she said with forced casualness, "you're up early."

The boy looked up at her with curiousity, his eyes still puffy from sleep. "What are you doin-" Bailey faltered as his gaze finally caught on the man standing behind her. His eyes widened and his mouth gaped open in amazement. 

Leia bit her lip in concern and took a quick step toward her son. "Bailey-?"

But the boy just continued to look past her, his eyes never leaving the tall smuggler. He couldn't believe it. The space pilot was actually standing right here in his hallway. And he wasn't even just a picture in his head anymore.

"Daddy," he finally gasped. Bailey broke into a faint smile and he felt a sudden thrill coarse through him. "You came back."

***more to come...... 


	20. Chapter Twenty

Han stared down at the little boy in wonderous disbelief. He couldn't get passed the lump in his throat. The child was beautiful. His dark hair, still tossled from sleep, had the same deep brown color as Leia. And those hazel eyes, sparkling with delight as he gazed up at his father expectantly. 

Han didn't know what to say. Suddenly, he felt so awkward. He shot Leia a nervous glance. She just smiled at him tightly, before her eyes returned to her son. The expression on her face betrayed a tinge of anxiety. Han fleetingly wondered what was bothering her. He knew that she didn't want traumatize the boy with his sudden appearance, but the child seemed okay. //What was wrong? Was it him?// He turned back to the boy and smiled self-consciously. Han never thought he would be intimidated by a six-year old before, but here he was, feeling completely tongue-tied.

Bailey took a step towards him, a huge grin still spread across his face. He tilted his head appraisingly as he gazed up at the tall smuggler. "You kinda look like 'Space Racer," he declared finally.

Han let out a nervous chuckle. He didn't really know what the boy was talking about, but that certainly wasn't what he expected him to say. "I do?"

Bailey nodded and he quirked his mouth to the side thoughtfully. "But you're bigger."

The smuggler threw Leia an amused look, "well that's good to know."

The princess smiled tautly at this remark and then kneeled down in front of her son. "Bailey," she began carefully, "um, do you know who this is?"

The boy looked at her with puzzlement. "Of course," he answered confidentally, "it's my real daddy."

Han felt his mouth curve in pride as he heard the word slip from the boy's mouth again. //Daddy.// His heart swelled. //I'm his daddy.//

Leia bit her lip with uncertainty. "Um, yes..." Her mind reeled. Unfortunately, as she searched her brain, the princess could not recall this particular subject ever being covered in any parenting guide. Leia peered at the boy inquisitively, searching his face. "How..." she faltered nervously, "how do you, um, feel about that?"

Han suddenly fidgeted nervously in the background. Bailey glanced up at the smuggler and then looked back at his mother in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"Well..." Leia took a steadying breath, "I imagine this is very confusing for you..."

The boy's gazed at her questioningly. He didn't feel confused. His daddy was back. What was there to be confused about? Bailey tugged at his lip patiently as he waited for Leia to continue.

The princess shook her head, unsure of how to proceed with this conversation. "Wow," she finally gasped with forced brightness, "I bet you have a million questions."

The boy shrugged, "not really." After all, he probably knew even more than his mother at this point. He had known for awhile. Bailey turned from her and looked back up at the smuggler, his eyes wide. "Do you want to see my room?"

Han was taken aback by the question. He shot Leia an uncertain look. She gazed back up at him blankly. Finally, she gave him a reassuring smile. 

Han grinned nervously, "sure, I'd love to."

Bailey beamed up at his father with pride. "I've got a star system on my ceiling. It's really neat." The boy took another step towards Han and reached for his hand. "I can show you, if you want."

The smuggler swallowed back the lump in his throat as Bailey wrapped his hand in Han's. "That sounds great," he managed cheerfully. 

Han couldn't believe this. Here he was, staring down at his own son. It was a boy he barely knew. And yet, he was already filled with an unequivocal love for him. Han looked over at the princess, his expression awash with awed delight. Leia just smiled in return, the shine of happy tears appearing in her eyes. 

Bailey tugged on his hand and began leading Han down the hall. The smuggler threw a questioning glance over his shoulder, he wanted to know if Leia was going to follow them. The princess shook her head slowly, "I think I'll just go into the kitchen and fix you boys something to eat."

Han's mouth curved up in understanding and he nodded. But his attention was diverted again by the sound of the child's voice.

"I also got a lot of space ships," Bailey boasted proudly, "but not as much as Eriq Noonan. He's a kid in my class. He's got a billion, but I still got a lot too." The boy gave Han a knowing smirk, "besides wait 'til I tell Eriq about _you_. His dad is just a stupid comlink operator."

Han smiled, a small fire of pride igniting within him. He was pleased to have the child's approval. It was almost surprised him how much it actually meant to him.

Bailey led him into his room, and the smuggler's mouth curved up in amusement as he took in the child's surroundings. The walls were decorated with various pictures of smashball stars and the infamous 'Space Racer'. Small model space ships littered the floor, and Han carefully stepped around them as he entered the room.

Bailey looked up at his father expectantly. "This is where I sleep. Do you like it?"

Han grinned down at him. "This is a _great_ room," he replied with enthusiasm, "definitely one of the greatest rooms I have ever seen."

Bailey beamed with pride. He jumped up onto the bed that was still rumpled from when he slept and pointed at the ceiling. "Did you see the stars?" The child motioned him over, "Come here, look."

The smuggler walked over to him and followed with his gaze to where the child's finger was pointing. All above the bed, the ceiling was dotted with tiny stars and planets. "See?" The boy asked in a hushed whisper. It was as if the sight of even paper star systems was still enough to fill the child with awe. 

Han swallowed. He remembered that feeling. The smuggler nodded and Bailey pointed to another part of the ceiling. "And there's Correllia, too." He was excited to show his father that, and the child turned his face eagerly to gauge the pilot's reaction.

Han rewarded him with an approving smile. "Very nice," he nodded. "Have you ever been there?"

The boy's face fell. "No," he replied sullenly, "Simon says it's not a very good place for kids." Bailey noticed the smuggler's face darken and hastily added, "but Uncle Chewie promises he's going to take me someday." 

Han, who had felt his stomach tighten at the mention of the boy's stepfather, softened at the mention of his best friend. //'Uncle' Chewie!// He mused with a smile. And suddenly Han realized how much he really wanted to see the big furry guy again. //Where was he today?//

The pilot suddenly felt Bailey's intent gaze on him and turned to the boy expectantly. Bailey smiled. "When I stand on the bed I'm almost as big as you," he observed with all seriousness.

Han grinned, "wow, you are. Will you look at that?"

"Do you think I'll be as big as you when I'm all growed up?"

The smugglers' mouth cocked crookedly in amusement. "You'll be bigger."

Bailey beamed with pleasure and then made a face. "Simon's not very big," he gave him a curious look. "He lives here too. Do you know him?"

Han shrugged his shoulders lightly. He didn't know how he should answer, so finally he just shook his head.

"Oh," Bailey looked back up at the ceiling, "he's the one who put up the stars up for me." The boy gave Han an innocent smile, oblivious to how that last statement affected the smuggler. "It took us all afternoon."

Han swallowed. He turned away and pointed to a holocube that sat by the boy's bed. "Is that you and Chewie?" He asked, clearing his throat.

Bailey nodded enthusiastically and Han picked up the cube to take a closer look. The smuggler smiled. In the image, the towering wookiee was holding the grinning child upside down by the waist. The two of them were surrounded by lush green forests and Han could just make out a small wood bridge in the background.

"That's from last year," Bailey announced, as he began bouncing lightly on the bed. "At the Endor Celebration."

Han gave the boy a questioning look. "Endor," he said searchingly, "where the rebels won the war?"

Bailey nodded. "You were in the rebellion too," he stated matter-of-factly. It wasn't a question, but Han nodded anyway.

"Uncle Chewie says that's where you met Momma." 

The smuggler smiled and placed the cube back on the bedside table. "Yeah," he finally replied.

The child's bouncing became more furious, "did you really help Uncle Luke blow up a death star?"

Han shrugged modestly, "yeah...sorta."

Bailey continued to bob up and down on the mattress, "wow! And the Kessel Run? Is that true too?"

The pilot shook his head in amusement and looked up at the boy, "what else have you heard?"

"Everything," he replied simply, "Uncle Chewie told me _all_ about you."

Han smiled jokingly, "just Uncle Chewie?"

"Yeah," Bailey answered seriously, "sometimes Uncle Luke too. But mostly Uncle Chewie." Han's smile faltered and the boy's bouncing came to a slow stop. "Well, I mean I _had_ to ask Uncle Chewie," Bailey explained, "because if I asked Momma about you, she would just get real sad."

Han turned away and swallowed. "Oh," he replied softly.

"Uncle Chewie would get sad too," the boy added, "but only sometimes." Bailey started to bounce again, "other times he would laugh at you."

Han turned back and raised an eyebrow at the child. "Laugh at me?"

The boy shrugged. "Yeah," he said innocently, the bed squeeking with each jump. "He said you were funny."

The smuggler chuckled soflty to himself and turned to gaze around the room, but the child's next statement instantly drew his attention back.

"Uncle Chewie doesn't know about you yet." Again, it wasn't a question.

Han shook his head, his expression grave. "No," he admitted.

Bailey allowed his body flop down to a sitting position on the bed.. He looked up at the pilot with wide-eyed seriousness. "I tried to tell him that you were back. I thought it would make him happy," the child sighed, "but I don't think he believed me."

Han's brow furrowed in startled confusion, "what? You tried to tell him....but how did you-" The smuggler shook his head uncomprehending.

But Bailey had a question of his own, "why didn't you come to us yesterday?"

"Yesterday?"

"In the park," he replied, "I saw you."

"Oh," Han's shoulders sagged in relief. So _that's_ what the boy was talking about. He smiled self-consciously, "you saw me, huh?"

"Yeah, and I thought you were supposed to talk to us in the park." Bailey shook his head in confusion, "That's what I _saw_- it's what the pitcher showed-but then you left." 

The smuggler suddenly felt lost again, and his grin faltered. //Huh?// He gave the child a puzzled look, "what? What do you mean?"

Bailey opened his mouth as if to answer and then shut it. He gave Han a long look before finally just shrugging and looking away. "Nothing," he muttered softly, his hands reaching to absently pick at his bedspread. 

"No, really," Han pressed softly, "what do you mean by 'that's what you saw'? I don't understand."

Bailey looked up at him, his wide and serious. It seemed like he was about to say something, but then his attention was immediately drawn to the doorway. Han turned to see what the boy was looking at and saw Leia standing framed in the entrance to the room. The smuggler grinned, "hey, Princess."

Han noticed a slight nervous tension in Leia's expression before she quickly covered it with a tight smile. "How are things going in here?" 

The smuggler didn't miss the quick anxious glance she gave her son. He cleared his throat, "good, great." He gave Bailey a smile, "right?"

The boy nodded agreeably.

Leia was genuinely pleased. "Good," she said brightly, her anxiety seeming to dissipate for the moment. "You guys hungry? I put some breakfast together."

The smuggler raised an eyebrow in mock disbelief, "you learned to cook?"

Leia rolled her eyes, "course not." She gave him a cheeky smile, "I didn't say I _cooked_ breakfast. I said I 'put it together'."

Han gave a conceding nod, "oh, that's right." He said, still grinning.

"Momma doesn't cook," Bailey exclaimed good naturedly as he hopped off the bed. "That's what Threepio is for."

Han gave the princess a knowing smirk. "Good to know that droid's good for something," he quipped.

Leia, always feeling the need to defend the hapless droid, batted the smuggler lightly on the arm. But Bailey just nodded his head in utter agreement as he pushed himself infront of them. "That's for sure!" The little boy proclaimed loudly as he made his way down the hall. 

The princess threw a hand over her mouth and laughed inspite of herself. And it was the three of them headed towards the kitchen, that Leia felt such a wave of utter contentment wash over her. It was in that brief moment, walking with both Bailey and Han, the princess finally got to see her life as she had always wanted it to be. And suddenly she was filled with such pure happiness that all other dark thoughts were momentarily pushed from her mind. 

Leia didn't worry of her son's hidden ability, or what might come next. And she certainly lost all thought of Simon and where he might be. And of course, at that moment, the princess never gave a second thought as to what her husband might actually be up to. She was cheerfully oblivious.

If she only knew.


	21. Chapter Twenty-one

Simon sat with his elbows propped up against the bar, and sipped at his drink with smug satisfaction. It was all so perfect. He would get all the details settled sometime this afternoon, and then that sandtrader could be on his way to Tatooine by nightfall. 

The bounty hunter idea was really foolproof. Simon was surprised that he hadn't thought of it sooner. Now it seemed so obvious. Hand the smuggler over to one of those greedy space scums and no one would ever be the wiser. No one would ever know that he was involved. After all, it was a pretty well known fact that Solo had a price on his head that would have every hunter in the far reaches of the galaxy drooling. Naturally, it was only a matter of time before he got picked up. It was too be expected, really. 

This was going to work.

Of course Simon wasn't really looking foward to the next wave of grief that would inevitably hit his wife. It was hard enough trying to get her through it the first time. And she would probably blame him anyway, Simon thought bitterly. She would have no proof of course, but she would find a way to turn it around on him. //The ingrateful little..// And after all he had done for her. All the love and attention he had showered on her over the years. Just so it could slide right off her. It was as if the princess were coated in some kind of protective cover that prevented him from getting through to her. From getting close. No, he thought with irriation, apparently you had to be a third class smuggler to be able to do _that_. 

Simon could feel his back stiffen as he thought of Han Solo. It turned his stomach the way the princess had stuck him up on a pedestal over the years. Like he was some squeaky clean saint instead of a dirty ex-pirate. His wife really needed to develop more discriminating tastes. It was almost embarrassing. Simon shook his head in disgust and took another angry sip of his drink. She was probably crawling all over the smuggler as this very moment. //Disgusting.//

Simon set down his glass with a resounding 'clink' and wiped his mouth angerly with the back of his hand. Let her have her fun, he thought snidely. //Get her final kicks.// Simon could rest easy knowing that the space pilot's days were numbered. 

The man broke out of his bitter revere and turned his head to scope out the cantina. He suddenly felt very bored. He had all afternoon to get a ship for Malcolm, that would be no problem. What he really needed was some _excitement_. Simon blew out a resigned sigh. He couldn't very well go home. Solo was probably there. //What _nerve_.// Going to see _his_ wife in _his_ home. The man had no class. Simon didn't consider his own numerous flings to be nearly as bad. After all, at least he always had the courtesy to have them somewhere else. He never flaunted them. Simon clenched his jaw in anger.. And he would certainly never parade those women around in front of Bailey. 

//Bailey.//

And for the first time that morning, Leia's husband felt a flash of guilt pinch his heart. //Poor Bailey.// Simon was going to be destroying this boy's biological father, and for that he almost did feel terrible. But really, he reasoned, it was for the child's own good. Simon was sincere in his belief that Solo would inevitably leave the boy in the long run. He was only playing the concerned stepfather by saving the child from more grief down the road. It was better this way. Someday Bailey would understand. Someday, if the boy ever found out what he had done, he might even thank him. 

Simon smiled and he felt his guilt lift for the moment. The man looked around the room and suddenly his eyes caught on Solo's admirer from earlier. She was back at the end of the bar, sipping at another drink and tapping her fingers impatiently. The young woman looked bored. Restless. Simon stood up from his stool and signalled the barmaid for a couple more drinks. //Well, well, well,// he thought smugly. Simon was pretty sure he could give her some excitement.

And with that in mind, the man picked up the two new drinks and confidentally made his way to the end of the bar. 

********

Bailey sat at the table, his legs swinging back and forth in excitement. He still couldn't believe it. The boy eyed the man in awe. Here he was sitting across from his _real_ life daddy. And the pilot was actually eating breakfast with them.

//Wow.//

Bailey couldn't help but gape openly at him. He found every move the smuggler made to be positively fascinating. And Bailey tried to notice everything. Like the way his daddy ripped the breakfast rolls in half before buttering them. And that the pilot liked to drink juice in the morning, but not the red kind. He preferred the purple. Bailey decided to drink some of that this morning too. The boy was also intrigued with how his daddy liked to sprinkle extra spices on almost everything he ate. The space pilot peppered his plate so thoroughly that his food almost changed color. Now _that_ was pretty impressive. Bailey wanted his food to be like that too. But when he asked the pilot to pass some of the hot spices down to him, his mother raised an eyebrow and gave him a questioning look. "Are you sure you want to eat it like that?" She asked. 

Bailey just shrugged casually, he didn't want his daddy to think that this was any big deal to him. The boy wanted to be a tough guy too. "Yeah," he said lightly, "I always like my food hot."

Leia stifled a knowing smile as she watched her son sprinkle a generous portion of spices onto his plate. But her amusement turned to mild concern when she saw how thoroughly the boy was covering his food. "Bailey," she warned cautiously, "I think that might be a bit much." 

"No, it's not," the child stubbornly insisted, "I know what I'm doing." He set down the spice container with a 'clink'. //Perfect// he had thought with pleased satisfaction. Now his food looked just like the pilot's. He dug his fork into the pile on his plate and took his first bite, oblivious to the anticipatory stares of his parents. Upon his first taste, Bailey instantly regretted not listening to his mother. //Yuck!//

The boy's face momentarily twisted into such a comical expression of disgust that Han had to turn away to stifle a chuckle of amusement. "How'd they taste?" The smuggler couldn't resist asking from behind his hand.

Bailey recovered quickly, and immediately forced an enthusiastic smile onto his face. "Mmmmmm," he said lightly, even as the fiery food caused tears to well up in his eyes, "that was really..um..._good_." The boy practically choked over the words. Bailey reached for his glass of juice and greedily gulped it down.

Han's brow rose in amusement. With a straight face like that, he mused, he bet that his boy would also make a fine sabacc player one day. He turned toward the princess with a knowing smile, but suddenly thought twice about sharing that bit of info with her. She might not exactly get the same kick out of the prospect as he did. Han instead turned back to the boy, who was now poking at his food suspiciously and studying it with a wary eye. "What's the matter," he asked the child jokingly, "don't like it?"

Bailey looked up at him with wide-eyed innocence. "No, I love it." The boy patted his stomach dramatically, "I'm just really full. Wow."

The smuggler threw Leia a knowing look of amusement. He then turned back to Bailey and gave him a crooked smile, "you know," he said in his most impressed voice, "I was never able to eat food like that until I was at _least_ ten."

Bailey looked up at him with dubious awe, "really?" 

Han nodded, "yeah. At _least_ that. Maybe I was twelve." The smuggler leaned foward and in a conspiratorial whisper added, "you know, I always liked a little cereal and milk myself."

The boy's eyes widened, "me too!" His voice was filled with surprised relief.

"Yeah?" Han could feel Leia's gaze on him and hastily added, "with a little something healthy too, of course. Like fruit or something."

Bailey nodded eagerly, "uh huh! That's what _I_ always have."

The smuggler leaned back in his seat and raised a doubtful eyebrow. "Really?"

The boy lept out of his seat enthusiastically. "Yeah, I always!" Bailey made his way excitedly over to the cupboards. "Look, I'll make a bowl right now and show you."

"Good idea," Han said agreeably and he was pleased when he noticed Leia smiling over at him. She reached under the table for his hand. She gave it a quick squeeze and whispered, "look at that. He already adores you." Han gave her a small embarrassed grin and Leia had to raise an eyebrow at his apparent shyness. "Captain Solo, I don't actually detect some modesty in you, do I?"

Han shrugged casually, "in me? Not a chance, sweetheart." He gave her a quick wink, and Leia rolled her eyes in amusement. Her hand was still resting comfortingly over his and she was hesitant to pull it away. But she knew she had to before Bailey came back and saw it. This whole situation had to be confusing enough for the boy, the last thing Leia wanted to do was complicate it further. 

The princess gave Han an apologetic smile and then reluctantly returned her hand to her lap. The smuggler nodded his head in understanding, and then turned to greet the boy has he walked back towards the table. "Did you fix yourself something that fast?"

But Bailey was actually approaching the princess with an empty whiskey bottle in his hand. "You put Simon's bottles in the wrong trash container, Momma." He exclaimed innocently. He held it up to her, "see? This was in the wrong place."

Leia bit her lip and shot Han a quick look of mortification. The smuggler averted his eyes, conscious of her discomfort. Leia jumped out of her seat and grabbed the bottle out of Bailey's hand. "Oops, my mistake," she said hurriedly. The princess made her way over to the trash units, her back stiff with embarrassment. In her rush when Han was at the door earlier, she must of dumped all of Simon's trash in the wrong place. 

//Great// she thought with resignation. Han already thought low enough of Simon, now he was going to think that she had also married herself off to some fall down drunk. And the thought of him having that impression mortified the princess. She didn't want Han to think that she would just let their son be raised by just *anybody*. True, Simon was in a bit of a rut at the moment, but he had always been a good father. She had done her best by their son, she really had. Leia didn't want Han believing that she was some horribly irresponsible mother. 

The princess cringed as she heard the boy explain to the smuggler, "there's a whole bunch of bottles in there. Simon must have had a party."

Leia could feel her cheeks redden as she bent over the trash and pulled out the last of her husband's ale glasses. "There was no party," she said defensively, "this is all from several nights, Bail."

Bailey gave her a curious look, "there wasn't a party?"

"No." The princess straightened. She forced a casual smile, "there was _no_ party."

"Oh," the boy tugged on his lip thoughtfully and Leia made her way back to the table. Bailey still didn't look convinced. Finally he asked, his voice loud and innocent, "then why did Simon sleep in his clothes last night?"

The princess winced inwardly at the question, and out of the corner of her eye she was aware of Han fidgeting uncomfortably in his seat. Leia bit her lip before considering her answer. The boy must've gotten up in the night and seen his stepfather sleeping on the couch. Now she felt even further humiliated, although she couldn't pin point exactly _why_. After all, Han of all people, was probably thrilled at this bit of information. But still, it bothered her that he now would know what a complete failure her marriage was. Leia cleared her throat and tried to brush these negative thoughts away. "He just fell asleep watching the HoloNet, honey." 

"He sure does that a lot."

The princess nodded absently and she sat back down at the table. "Yes, he does," she said evenly, shooting Han another quick glance.

The smuggler was scratching his neck thoughtfully, his head turned away. Apparently he felt as awkward about this as she did. "Leia," he began carefully, " maybe I should-"

The sudden buzzing of the front door cut him off. //Simon.// Han stiffened and his gaze darted to the hallway and nervously back to the princess. He expected to see her panicked stare looking back at him. But Leia was sitting there perfectly calm, her forehead resting against her hand. "Bailey, go let Uncle Luke in, please." There was a resignation in her tone.

"He's here?" Bailey asked in surprise, voicing Han's same question. 

"Yes," Leia said still looking forlornly down at the table. "Get the door for me, sweetie, would you?"

The boy nodded and then turned to scamper towards the door. Leia rubbed her forehead tiredly, she still felt embarrassed about the whole Simon situation and suddenly didn't know what to say to Han. She felt like she needed to explain something, but she couldn't find the words. The princess bit her lip with uncertainty, and turned her gaze back up to the smuggler. "Han, I-" She was stopped by the tense expression on the corellian's face. Leia wrinkled her brow in confusion, "what's wrong?"

Han looked at her, his eyes questioning. "What if it's not Luke? Should I leave?"

The princess smiled and reached over and put her hand on his arm, "don't worry. Really, I know it's him."

The smuggler looked at her, his expression baffled. "But how can you-"

"-Han!" A friendly voice suddenly greeted him from the doorway, interrupting Solo mid-thought. 

The correllian jumped up from his seat in pleasant surprise and as he turned to see Luke Skywalker enter into the kitchen his face lit up in excitement. "Kid!" Han walked over to the young man and slapped him affectionately on the shoulder. "Wow, look at you," Solo grinned broadly, "I almost wouldn't recognize you!"

Luke returned the smuggler's smile, "it's so good to finally see you again." He shot his sister a quick meaningful glance and then looked back up at Han. "We all missed you," he said, "very much."

The pilot nodded in understanding, and suddenly noticed that the knot in his throat was returning. "Yeah," he finally replied. "Well, I'm glad to be back." Han cocked the corner of his mouth in good humor, and peaked over the young man's shoulder. "Say," he said lightly, "you wouldn't happen to have dragged along that tall furball with you, did ya?"

Luke shook his head, his eyes sparkling with amusement. It was amazing to be talking to his friend like this again, after so many years. But looking at the tall corellian, it suddenly felt to the Jedi that no time had passed at all. It could have almost been only yesterday that the two men had said good-bye in that snowy hangar on Hoth. And then Luke realized with a start, that for Han it actually _did_ feel like that. What an incredible adjustment this must be for him. Luke's gaze flickered briefly over to his sister and then to Bailey who stood right below him. //What an incredible adjustment for _all_ of them.// 

And it was then that the Jedi felt a sudden rush of cold wash over him. A freezing tidal wave of fear and hate. It was fleeting--not more than a flash--and then it was gone. But it was enough. And Luke had felt it, as clearly as if it had occurred over a period of hours as opposed to a few mere seconds. //Something's wrong.// Luke looked up to see Han staring down at him, his brow wrinkled in concern. "You okay, kid?"

The Jedi nodded numbly and risked a quick glance over at his sister. Her expression mirrored Han's, but she didn't say anything. There was a little more knowledge in her eyes, but it was just enough to tell him that she didn't want to know anymore.

"I'm fine," Luke replied softly. Then, noticing the smuggler's grim expression, he added a little more cheerfully, "really. Sorry about that, I just sort of dazed off for a second there."

Han forced a casual grin on his face, "hey, that's okay. I do that all the time too." He turned to the princess and gave her a knowing smirk, "especially when the princess used to give me those long and boring 'the rebellion really needs you' lectures."

Leia snapped her head towards Han, her mouth agape in mock idignation. Her discomfort over Luke momentarily forgotten. "Hey," she exclaimed, batting the smuggler on the arm, "so _that's_ why I never seemed to get through to you. You weren't even paying attention!"

Han's smirk widened, "oh don't worry, I always had Chewie nudge me awake for the really important parts." Leia shook her head in exasperation and Han's expression suddenly sobered and he raised a curious eyebrow, "but where is the big guy, anyway?"

Leia opened her mouth to answer, but Han was suddenly distracted by an insistant tugging on his arm. He looked down to see Bailey gazing eagerly up at him. "He's working on the falcon," the boy explained, "the hyperdrive's busted."

The smuggler cocked an eyebrow, "the hyperdrive?" He shook his head in amused disbelief, "well it's good to see that _some_ things haven't changed."

Leia smiled knowingly at his remark. "We should really go down and see Chewie," she added, "he would really want to know about you."

Han nodded. "Yeah," he said gravely. The smuggler turned to Luke, "you're gonna come down with us, right?"

Luke looked toward the pilot in confusion. He had been lost in his thoughts again, the dark ripple in the force once again playing over in his mind. The Jedi quickly regained his bearings and gave Han a weak smile. "Sure," he said with forced cheer, pushing the cold memory from his mind. "Wouldn't miss it."

But even as Luke smiled broadly, and attempted to immerse himself in the happiness of the occasion, he found it almost impossible to fully enjoy himself. The Jedi just couldn't dismiss the dread he felt building at the base of his thoughts. //Something was _definitely_ going to happen.// 

And all Luke could pinpoint with any certainty was that it was bad.

Real bad.


	22. Chapter Twenty-two

Lando sat back in his seat and suppressed a smile of satisfaction. He was holding an ideal sabacc hand at the moment, and as long as the card value wasn't changed on him, he was all set. //About time my luck turned around.// Lando looked up at the young man across from him and tried to keep his voice as nonchalant as possible, "call it."

Xavier's eyes darted over to the general and then back to his own cards. "Um," he cleared his throat, "okay." He tentatively splayed his cards out on the table. Lando drew in a sharp breath. //Idiot's array!// 

Xavier shot him an uncertain look. "Is this any good?"

Lando forced a smile across his face, trying to stifle the disapointment he felt in his gut. "Wow," he said in feigned cheerfulness, "nice." He threw his cards down, "you beat me again."

Xavier's brow shot up in surprise, "I did?"

Calrissian leaned over the table and began gathering up the cards for another round. "Yeah, you had an 'Idiot's Array'. You don't get any better than that."

"So these credits are mine then?"

Lando nodded, and tried to keep his voice light. "Yes, they're all yours." The general really hated to lose. Especially when there was money involved. //And to a beginner too!// But the kid's winning-streak had to be fluke, so he was trying not to let it get to him too much. "Wanna play again?"

Xavier grinned. "Sure," he said excitedly. "I like this game."

Lando eyed the young man's growing pile of credits with disdain. "Yes," he replied evenly, "I'm sure you do." But the general needed a chance to win his money back, so he was willing to go another round.

Lando shuffled the cards quickly and promptly began to deal them out. Xavier rubbed his hands together in anticipation and the general gave him a cool glare. "Xavier," he warned, "it's best when you are playing an opponent to learn the art of subtlety. That means no wearing your heart on your sleeve, and win or lose you should act as if it's all the same to you. Understand?"

The young man nodded.

"Good, you'll avoid more confrontations that way." Lando finished dealing the cards and leaned back in his seat. "Okay," he said a little more cheerfully, "let's play."

The two men picked up their cards and began to study their hands intently. Xavier's brow wrinkled in concentration as he painstakingly tried to add up the values in his head. Lando, an old pro at this, was already tossing a couple of his cards into the interference field. As he waited for Xavier to make his next move, Lando became aware of the sound of footfalls climbing up the boarding ramp. 

Malcolm. 

The older man appeared at the entrance of the ship and promptly slumped against the doorframe in mild despair. He felt awful. On his walk back to the hangar he had been unable to even look at his own reflection in the passing windows. //He was scum now.// Malcolm's stomach tightened painfully with guilt. //What was he *doing*?// The very concept of what he was about to pull off went against his nature.

But he had heard out Simon's proposal and he had agreed. He had, in effect, signed the smuggler's death certificate. 

Malcolm let out a despondant sigh and was surprised when he looked over and saw Xavier and Lando sitting at the gaming table with cards in their hands. They were both staring at him with curious expressions. The older man just looked away. He hated that they were here right now. Especially Xavier. The kid looked up to him so much and would be disheartened to hear what the sandtrader had done. 

Lando gave the older man a tentative smile. "Hey, Malcolm," he said with forced lightness, "I was just teaching the kid here some sabacc. Want me to deal you in?"

The older man shook his head. "No, thanks."

Xavier's brow rose in concern, "what's wrong?" He cast a curious glance over Malcolm's shoulder, "where's Captain Solo?"

The older man shrugged brusquely, "how am I supposed to know?" He mentally winced at the defensiveness in his tone.

Xavier shot Lando a perplexed look and then returned his gaze to the other sand trader. "Well, um, he left with you this morning--didn't he?"

Lando's brow rose in mild surrprise, and he turned in his seat with a questioning expresssion on his face. "He did? Where did you guys go?" 

The older man averted his gaze and didn't answer. 

"Where's Han, Malcolm?" Lando asked a little more forcibly.

"I _said_ I don't know," he replied with a steely coldness. "What am I--his babysitter?"

Lando was silent a moment. He didn't like the sandtrader talking to him that way, especially aboard his own ship, but he decided to let it pass. It was easier to put up with a little attitude than a full blown brawl. "Well," he finally pronounced carefully, "you did leave with him this morning, right? *Any* idea where he might have gone?"

Malcolm shrugged, "to see his lady, I guess. I'm not sure."

Lando gave a slight smile, "the princess?" That must of meant things had gone pretty well last night. Lando didn't really know. Han had been pretty tight lipped about the whole thing when he had gotten back. Of course, Calrissian understood that the smuggler still didn't exactly trust him, so he hadn't really expected Solo to give him the details. But still, that didn't mean that Lando wasn't more than a little curious about the whole thing. "So Malcolm," he asked cautiously, "did Han tell *you* anything about how it went with Leia?"

The older man gave him a confused look. "How it went with who?"

"The princess," Lando explained patiently.

"Oh," Malcolm hesitated. //Was that her name?// He had forgotten. But now he felt another wave of shame wash over him. Malcolm didn't want to know anymore about Solo's life. He didn't want to get too personal. "No," he replied turning towards the cockpit. "He didn't say a word to me about it."

Lando was surprised, "not even about Bailey? He said _nothing_?"

Malcolm flinched and he paused right before the entrance to the cockpit. //That's right, the smuggler also had a child.// Malcolm suddenly felt sick.. He turned on Lando abruptly. "No dammit," he blurted angerly, "he didn't say _anything_! And why would he? I barely even know the man. He's _nothing_ to me."

Lando leaned back in his seat in surprise. //What's his problem?// He threw a quick glance to Xavier, who also looked unnerved by his boss' outburst. "Sorry," Lando finally replied, "I was just curious."

Malcolm's shoulders slumped in defeat. "Yeah, well...." but he didn't say anything else. The older man just shook his head mournfully and turned back to the cockpit. He wanted to be alone for awhile. But Malcolm paused again as something occurred to him. He turned back to Calrissian. "Listen General," he said, his voice softer, "I need to tie up some loose ends over the next couple of days."

Lando nodded reluctantly, "okay."

"I mean, I have to disapear for awhile. Get some things done." 

Xavier stood up with a start. "What?"

Malcolm raised a hand and calmly motioned for the young man to be seated. "Relax, it won't take long. But it's important."

Xavier continued to stand. He shook his head in exasperation, "b-but what about me?"

Malcolm turned and gave Lando an imploring look. "Can the kid just crash here until I get back? Like I said, it won't be more than a few days."

Lando nodded slowly. Xavier protested meekly in the background. "Sure," the general said. He ignored the objections of Xavier in the background and added, "but what do you need to get done? Is it anything I could give you a hand with?"

The older man grimaced, "not likely."

Lando was more than a little curious about what was going on, but he didn't press it. He gave the man another encouraging nod. "Sure, Macolm. It's no problem."

Malcolm let out another sigh and then gave the general a weak smile. "Thanks," he turned back towards the cockpit.

Xavier's eyes widened in disbelief. "But sir," he sputtered, "why can't I go with you?"

Malcolm didn't even look back. "You'll be fine here," he muttered dully. And before the young man could say another word, the trader palmed the door shut.

Lando turned to Xavier and forced a pleasant grin on his face. "Hey," he said lightly, "how 'bout another hand?"

The young man turned to him, his expression stunned. He looked at the general blankly for a moment, before finally giving him a reluctant nod.

"Great, take a seat."

The two men gathered up their almost-forgotten cards, and resumed play. But Xavier was distracted, and Lando found himself quickly winning back the credits he had lost. After the third hand, the general finally gave the young man a sympathetic look. "Listen, kid, it's only for a few days."

Xavier looked up from the table with a startled expression on his face. "Huh?"

"Your boss, he'll be back. Don't worry about it."

The young man nodded his eyes downcast, "yeah, I know."

"Then what's wrong?" Lando didn't get it.

Lando didn't know how to respond at first. He had gotten the same impression, but he didn't want to worry the younger man. Finally he said, "come on, I'm sure it's not like that." But he didn't even sound convincing to his own ears. 

Xavier looked up at the general, a new fire in his eyes. "Oh yeah?" His voice was almost challenging, which was surprising coming from the young man. "Trust me, I know Malcolm. He's been like a father to me for years. I know when something's not right."

Lando sat back and digested his words for a moment. As he sat there silently, he suddenly could make the sound of another set of feet making their way up the ramp. //Now, who is it?// He thought with more than a little irritation.

Xavier looked towards the entrance and Lando watched as the young man's face suddenly whitened dramatically. Calrissian turned in the direction of Xavier's gaze and immediately his face lit up as he took in the form framed in the doorway. "Chewbacca," the general exclaimed good-naturedly. He sprinted out of his seat in enthusiasm, "how ya doin'?"

The tall wookiee took a couple of steps into the ship and growled a greeting. A golden protocol droid peaked around Chewbacca's massive bulk. "Chewbacca greets you 'hello'."

Lando motioned impatiently at the droid, "I understand him, Threepio."

The droid cocked back it's head slightly, as if miffed by the general's abrupt tone. "Very well," he said finally. One could almost detect a trace of hurt in his mechanical voice. "I was only trying to be helpful, it is part of my program-"

Chewbacca cut off the droid with an impatient growl before he could launch into another self-pitying diatribe. Xavier flinched at the wookiee's outburst and took a sudden step backwards. Lando noticed the young man's discomfort and quickly set about to try and abate his fears. "This here is Chewbacca," he explained gently, "he's a good friend of mine, and has been a friend of Captain Solo's for years."

Xavier's expression relaxed slightly and he looked up at the wookiee with renewed interest, "you know Captain Solo?"

Chewie shifted his weight, < I *knew* him, yes. > 

Xavier stared blankly at the wookiee for a second. He clearly did not understand what Chewbacca had said. Threepio stood their mutely for a second before realizing that was his cue. "Oh," he said in alarm, coming to his senses. "Chewbacca says that yes, he indeed knew the captain very well."

The wookiee's choice of words suddenly registered in Lando's mind and he looked up at Chewie questioningly.

"You mean he _knows_," Xavier corrected the droid, giving voice to Lando's same thought. "He _knows_ Captain Solo very well."

Threepio turned on the young man, as if annoyed that someone would dare try to correct his translation. "Why no, that is not-"

But Lando interrupted the droid, his curious gaze still set on the wookiee. "Chewie," he said carefully, "have you spoken to Leia this morning?"

The wookiee shook his head. 

"No," Lando hesitated, "how about last night? Did you talk to her last night?"

Chewie shrugged, He still didn't understand what the general was getting at. 

Lando nodded in sudden understanding. //Chewie doesn't know about Han.// He turned his gaze away and rubbed his chin thoughtfully. He should say something. But he wasn't sure how you broke something like this to someone. 

Finally he looked up at the wookiee, his stare intense. "Chewbacca," he said gently, "let's go for a walk. There's something I need to talk to you about."

********

Simon slid himself over on the rumpled bed, and flung his legs over edge of the mattress. He leaned down and picked his pants off the floor. He had arrangements to make now, and the time for fun was over. The girl had been a nice distraction, but not really as effective as he had hoped. He had still found himself preoccupied with thoughts of Leia. Simon stood up and tightened the belt on his pants. It made his skin crawl to think of her with that smuggler, and he knew the only way he could really make himself feel better would be to get his plans in motion. He was a man of action, after all.

"You're leaving already?" Simon's back stiffened at the sound of the drowsy voice calling from behind him. 

The man bit back a silent curse and pressed an insincere smile on his face. He turned to the girl in the bed. She looked up at him with uncertainty, a white sheet pressed protectively against her chest. Simon bent over and kissed her on the forehead. "I have things I need to take care of," he said gently. 

The girl bit her lip looked up at him wide-eyed. Her hair was still messed from their activities, and her lip stick had smeared onto her chin. "Am I going to see you again?"

//Not a chance.// Simon gave her his sweetest grin. "You're a very special girl," he purred in his most charming voice, "this has meant more to me than you could imagine."

The girl smiled, her face alit, "really?" 

Simon nodded. "Absolutely, it was wonderful-" and suddenly he realized he couldn't remember her name. //Airika? Arin?// He wasn't sure. He finally settled on, "darling."

The girl blushed, and averted her eyes shyly. She was obviously pleased with his term of endearment. But she looked up with a start when Simon pushed away from the bed again. "Can't you stay just a little longer?" There was a pleading in her voice.

"No, I can _not_," Simon winced. He didn't mean for his tone to sound so harsh, but he found his patience with the little waif rapidly thinning. He took a steadying breath and said a little more lightly, "I have some business to take care of."

The girl nodded in meek understanding, as if she really had any idea what business he was talking about. "Will you call me later?"

Simon clenched his jaw in annoyance. That was the problem with some of these girls, you slept with them once and suddenly they thought you were engaged. He almost had to snort at the very image it conjured up in his mind. As if this girl could ever be more than an afternoon special to a man like him. //Ridiculous!// Simon forced another pleasant grin on his face and finally replied, "We'll see."

The girl blew out her cheeks in an irritated pout. "We'll *see*? What does that mean?"

//It means 'no', you ignorant huss.// "It means," he bit out evenly, "I'll _try_. I'm a very busy man." Seeing that the girl was still not satisfied with his answer, Simon reached into his pocket and pulled out a few credits. He leaned over and pressed them firmly into the girl's delicate hand. He stood back from her and smiled. "Happy now?"

The girl looked up at him with an incredulous expression on her face. "What's this for?" She asked bitterly, "Payment? I never said I was _that_ kind of girl." She gaped at him as if she were offended, but then made no pretense about giving the money back. Instead her hand tightened protectively around the credits and she drew them closer to her chest.

Simon smiled innocently, "I figured you could buy yourself a few drinks. You know," he added, "to blot me out of your mind." "Huh?"

"To forget about me," Simon said, his voice suddenly cool. "That way you won't expect me to call you later."

The girl's face fell as the realization of what he was saying sunk in. "But I thought..."

Simon smiled tightly and he swiped his shirt up from a nearby chair. "Yes, well..." His next words were muffled as he pulled his shirt over his head, but the meaning was clear. "I'm sure this is not the first time in your life you have been wrong."

Simon looked back at the girl as he straightened his shirt and noticed that her face had hardened. She gave him a glare, a light tremble in her chin betraying her sadness. "Get out," she said softly, her voice barely audible. "Just leave."

Simon smirked as he slung his jacket over his shoulder. "No need to show me the door." And with that, he strolled our of the bedroom, barely even flinching as the girl flung the credits angerly at his back. 

It was of no matter, though. As Simon headed with steely resolve to his destination, thoughts of the girl were already forgotten. He had other things on his mind now. The sooner he sent Malcolm on his way, the better. 

Simon headed off into the direction of the docking bay. He had to see a guy about a ship.

********

Han Solo rocked back on his heels and stared up at the ship in awe. The 'Millennium Falcon' loomed before him in the hangar, and save for a few addtional scorch marks here and there, it looked exactly as he had left it. 

//Down to the malfunctioning hyperdrive,// he thought wryly. 

Han felt a light pressure on his arm. Leia. He turned down and gave her a surprised smile. "It looks like Chewie really kept her in good shape." He couldn't believe it. "I'm impressed."

Leia nodded thoughtfully as she took in the hulking ship. "Yeah," she said, "it got a little roughed up at the Battle of Endor, but Chewie was pretty thorough in making sure it was completely restored." Her brow furrowed slightly, "although, it doesn't look like he's here now. The ramp's sealed shut."

Han nodded absently as he continued to stare up at his ship with a wistful expression on his face. Leia squeezed his arm knowingly, "don't be too impressed, Captain." She said jokingly, "It's still just the same old bucket of bolts." 

Han opened his mouth to protest, but then he saw the amused light in her eyes and knew she was teasing. His mouth turned up in a grin, "she still managed to get _you_ out of a few tight spots, Your Worship."

Leia jabbed him lightly in the ribs for the nickname, but Han just smiled as he looked up at his ship. All kidding aside, it really was nice to see the Falcon again. To even believe it was still running after seven years was in itself pretty amazing. Although Han would never admit to anyone how amazed he actually was. 

Suddenly Bailey pushed himself impatiently between his two parents and headed off full-tilt towards the space ship. "Uncle Chewie," he called excitedly, the sounds of his feet hitting the pavement echoing throughout the hangar. "Uncle Chewie, guess who's here!"

Luke stepped up beside the couple and shook his head, "I think that boy has an endless reserve of energy."

Leia rolled her eyes in mock exasperation, "you don't know the half of it, Luke." But it was obvious from her tone that she was amused by her son.

Bailey was standing by the ship now, his body stretched on his tippy toes as he tried to palm the ramp open. His fingers hovered just out of reach, and the boy stuck out his tongue in concentration as he tried in vain to palm the latch.

"Uh-uh, Bailey-boy," Leia said, her stride suddenly becoming more urgent, "it will still be a few years yet before the security codes will let _you_ open the ship."

Bailey turned to his mother, not even trying to mask the disapointment on his face. His bottom lip protruded in a slight pout. Leia smirked. //Nice try.// She knew that look too. She had seen Han Solo perfect a similar version to it years ago. "When you're older."

"I _am_ older," the child insisted.

"Well, then when you're _much_ older," Leia amended.

Bailey's eyes flicked to the pilot and then back to his mother. Finally he just nodded his head. It was obvious that the boy did not want to make a scene infront of his father. Leia wondered how long Han would be able to inspire such awe in the boy. //Of course, if it results in such good behavior,// the princess thought wryly, //then I'll be willing to let it go on a little longer.//

The three adults closed in on the ship and Han blew out a sigh. "Well," he said thoughtfully, "can we at least open her up?"

Leia's mouth quirked in knowing amusement, "actually, if I'm not mistaken, I'm pretty sure _your_ palm print will still work."

Han raised his eyebrows in surprise, "really?"

The princess nodded. "Yeah," she replied softly, "I don't think Chewie ever changed the security codes." Leia remembered the wookiee telling her as much. He thought it would be disrespectful. "Chewie didn't want anyone forgetting who this ship really belonged to."

The smuggler smiled. Chewbacca's intense loyalty never failed to touch him. It was a constant reminder of how lucky he was to have found such a good friend. The smuggler gave Luke and Leia and uncertain look and then reached over to palm open the door. Sure enough, the ramp began to lower. 

Han grinned in delight. //My ship.// The 'Falcon' had once been the single pride and joy in his life. The pilot's eyes flickered to the young boy standing below him. Over the past few days he felt those priorities shift a bit, but he would still always have a deep effection for the space freighter. It had certainly been through a lot of action with him. Gotten him out of more than his fair share of tight fixes. Han found his gaze shifting to Leia. And of course, before that disaster of Cloud City, it had also been the site of some great memories for him and the princess as well.

Bailey shifted his weight restlessly as he waited for the boarding ramp to settle down on the ground. The boy loved being in the 'Falcon'. It as one of his favorite playgrounds. The best times, he thought, were when Uncle Chewie would invite him on the short day trips. Or when then the wookiee allowed him to tag along and 'help' with repairs. It made Bailey feel like a real pilot. And sometimes, when he thought Uncle Chewie wasn't watching, he would sneak into the cockpit and ease himself into the pilot's chair. Bailey would then puff out his small cheeks and make blaster noises with his mouth, and imagine that he was racing through the stars like his daddy once had. 

Bailey glanced up at the pilot now. He was murmuring something soft to his mother and she was smiling. Bailey wondered what was so funny, but something else also struck the boy. He suddenly realized how little he had actually seen his mother laugh in the past few months. It was like he hadn't even missed it until now. But the sudden softness of her expression reminded him of how she had once been. And even compared to then, she still seemed even _happier_ now. 

Bailey smiled. His real daddy coming home was the best thing that could've happened. //And wait 'til Chewie finds out!// The boy felt a thrill course through him. //And Simon!// Wow, would his stepfather be impressed. How could he not be? His real daddy was a *space pilot*. He had once been in the *Rebellion*. //And look how happy he makes Momma!// Simon was always saying he wished his mother would be happier. Now she was. Of course, Bailey noted, his stepfather was always a little cross when he said that. But it didn't matter, Simon would be glad to meet the pilot. Bailey couldn't imagine the man _not_ being in awe of the great Han Solo!

The ramp touched ground with a resounding 'clank' that seemed to echo throughout the hangar. Bailey didn't wait for the others, he just sprinted up into the belly of the ship. The three adults followed behind at a slower pace, Han looking around in awe as he soaked in every detail. Inside the 'falcon' everything was set up almost exactly as he had left it. Down to the same upholstery on the seats that surrounded the holochess table. The smuggler could feel a rush of memories, still strikingly vivid in his mind, flood over him. He reached out and stroked a sidepanel absently. A lot of times were spent here. It felt like almost half his life had been spent right in this ship. Cruising the stars.

"So what do you think, Han?" Luke asked cheerfully, "looks like we could be trusted with your ship, after all."

Han grimaced, "Yeah, well...I still want to know what Chewie did to my hyperdrive." But then the corners of his mouth turned up in a smile. "But of course, I guess that kind of trouble can happen to anyone."

Luke chuckled and glanced over at his nephew. The boy was standing by the holochess table, studying some tools that Chewie had left laying out. Han followed Luke's gaze and smiled as he looked at his son. "Hey pal, you gonna help us get this bucket running again?"

Bailey looked over at the pilot and smiled shyly. "I'm a good helper," he said softly, "Uncle Chewie taught me what all the tools are. Sometimes he lets me hand them to him and then shows me what they do."

Han was impressed. "Really?"

The boy nodded and held up the tool in his hand. "This is a hydrospanner," he proclaimed proudly, as if trying to prove his knowledge. "See?"

"Wow, very good," Han said brightly. "I can see you're halfway to becoming a great spacer all ready."

Bailey beamed happily at his father, "really?"

Han nodded encouragingly, "oh, yeah. Definitely." He crouched down infront of the boy and smiled. "Chewie's one of the best. If you're learning from him, you'll be zipping through the stars in no time."

From behind them, Leia let out a nervous laugh, "uh-oh, I don't think I'm ready to hear _that_ yet."

Bailey smiled at the pilot, his eyes wide with awe. "But you're the bestest pilot of them all, right?"

"Well..." Han shrugged his shoulders modestly. He could almost feel a light blush warm his cheeks. He wasn't used to being looked up to like this. The boy seemed to worship him, and it made the pilot almost uncomfortable. After all, he hadn't really done anything to deserve it. It felt almost dishonest. What if when Bailey finally got to know him, he was disapointed? What if the boy looked up at him one day and saw him for what he really was, not a glorified space pilot, but just an ex-smuggler with a checkered past? Han didn't know if he could handle that. //What if Bailey looks at me one day like...// Han swallowed. //What if he looks at me like _Simon_ does?//

"Will you teach me to fly one day?"

Han gazed uncertainly at the boy, and gave a him a shaky smile. "Sure," he said, trying to force the negative thoughts out of his mind. "If you want me to." 

Bailey nodded at him with enthusiasm.

//I can do this,// Han thought with renewed optimism. //I can be a good dad.// He grimaced inwardly. He shouldn't let Simon's words get to him like this. To fuel his doubts. That arrogant little bureaucrat didn't know Han. Simon could make all the claims he wanted, but Han was better than that. _He was_. Han would _never_ deliberately hurt Bailey. //No way.// Or Leia. The mere thought was unfathomable to him. 

The boy smiled at him now, his eyes shining. "Good," he said happily, "then I _know_ I'll be a good pilot."

"No," Han amended with confidence. "You'll be the best."

Bailey broke into a broad grin, pleased with his daddy's words. He turned his head up towards his mother. "Didja hear that?"

Leia gave her son a warm smile, "yes, and it doesn't surprise me one bit."

Bailey's gaze returned to the pilot, his expression eager. "When can you teach me? Can you teach me now?"

"Well..."

The boy's voice rose with excitement, "'cos I'll be a real good listener. I promise. I'll do whatever you say." Bailey gave him an imploring look, "I'm always a real good learner in school."

"I'm sure you are, but--"

"Bailey," Luke suddenly chimed in, "most pilots don't start training until they're just a bit older than you."

Han turned to shoot his friend a grateful look, "thanks, kid-" but something in Luke's expression caused the smuggler to falter. The kid suddenly look guarded. Distracted. The way he looked back in Leia's kitchen. "Luke?"

The tone of Han's voice caused Leia to turn to her brother in sudden concern, "is something wrong?"

Luke gave them a tight smile. "Yes," he said in a steady voice, "but I..." The Jedi paused for a moment and his eyes closed.

Han shot Leia a puzzled look, but she didn't notice. Her gaze was focused intently on Luke, her brow raised in concern. Han glanced back at the kid, and he could feel the hairs on the back of his begin to rise. Something in Luke's expression spooked him. It was weird. Like the kid wasn't even _there_. "Luke?" Han couldn't keep the nervous edge out of his voice, "are you okay?"

The Jedi took in a sudden breath and his eyes opened. For a split second, his gaze seemed vacant. As if it wasn't the interior of the 'falcon' that swam before his eyes, but someplace much farther. Luke turned to the princess and placed a gentle hand on her arm. "Leia," he said softly, "I have to go. Something...." His eyes flicked to Han and then back to her face. "I need to be *alone* for a little while." 

Luke gazed at her intently, as if willing her to understand. Leia swallowed. She knew what her brother was implying. He was having one of those force feelings again, and he wanted to be alone to search it further. Leia felt a sudden stab of apprehension. And as her eyes studied the earnestness in the jedi's expression, a wave of uneasiness washed over her. //Something's wrong.// Leia's gaze strayed to Bailey, who had been watching the whole scene in silence. The boy looked up at her curiously, his eyes filled with questions. She gave him a small smile, trying to abate whatever growing worries the child might have, and then turned back to the Jedi. Her expression told him that she understood.

Luke nodded and turned as the smuggler rose to his feet. The Jedi could feel Han's growing concern radiating off of him. Luke forced a taut smile, "sorry to cut this short, Han." He placed a companionable hand on the smuggler's arm. "But something's come up and I need to deal with it as soon as possible.".

Han nodded, but confusion was clearly etched on his features. "Sure kid," he said weakly. He shot the princess another curious look. 

"Actually, Han-" Luke said, drawing the smuggler's attention back again. "Why don't you walk me out?" His gaze darted uneasily to the boy before he continued, "if you wouldn't mind."

Han got the message. "Sure, okay." He shot Leia an uneasy smile and then reluctantly followed Luke down the loading ramp. Han suddenly felt very nervous. What did the kid want with him? Why had Luke looked at Bailey like that? And suddenly Han felt an irrational flash of anger. Was Luke going to tell him that he wasn't good enough for the princess too?

"Han-"

The seriousness of his friend's voice immediately pulled the smuggler out of his reverie. He turned to Luke, his tone already defensive, "Yeah?"

The two men were now standing at the bottom of the ramp, a few paces away from the ship. Just enough distance so as to insure they would not be overheard by either Bailey or the princess. This did not escape Han's notice. It only fueled his suspicions further. The smuggler found he couldn't restrain his frustration any longer. "Just what is it you want to say, Junior?" There was a biting tone in his voice, "you wanna tell me to back off too? Pick up and leave?"

Luke was taken aback by the smuggler's words. He shook his head in denial. "What? Han, no I-"

But the smuggler wasn't hearing any of it. He was sick of people telling him he wasn't good enough for something. Or someone. All his life he had heard this. Han glared at Luke, his eyes blazing. "Because I'm not gonna do it. I don't care what other people say. To hell with 'em. I'm not turning my back on Leia. And I'm not turning my back on my son."

Luke's mouth turned in wane amusement, but it didn't erase the troubled look in his eyes. "You done?"

Han blew out a steadying breath and nodded mutely.

"Well, good and I'm really glad to hear that," Luke replied lightly, "and I'm sure Leia will be thrilled to hear it too." His expression sobered, "but that's not what I wanted to talk to you about."

Han gave him a curious look. "No?"

"No, of course not. We're all glad you're back--" He hesitated, "naturally we are, but-" Luke faltered, suddenly unsure with how to continue. He needed to warn Han about something he felt in the force, but he didn't know how he would explain this to the skeptical smuggler. At least not in any way that Han would take seriously.

"But what?" Han asked impatiently.

Luke looked up at his friend, an imploring expression on his face. "Just be sure to watch your back, Han."

The smuggler shrugged indifferently, the building fear he had felt from his friend's tone rapidly fading. //Was that all?// Han had been 'watching his back' for as long as he could remember. That was nothing new to him. And it almost amused the smuggler that the young farmboy from Tatooine felt the need to remind him. "Sure, kid. I know." 

"No, Han. I mean it. Be careful."

Han snorted. He wanted to tell the kid to 'take it easy'. Remind him that he had been around the galaxy countless times, and that he already knew the score. But something in Luke's expression stopped him. Han felt his stomach tighten. "What is it? Have you heard something?"

Luke hesitated, "You could say that."

Han's eyes widened, "well, what is it? What did you hear? Tell me."

Luke shook his head and his gaze strayed to the floor in front of him. "No, I can't-" he said, his voice distant. "I don't know anything specific. It's just...a feeling."

"Huh?"

Luke turned back up towards the smuggler, his eyes regaining their focus. When he spoke again his voice was grave. "Just promise me you'll look out for yourself," a brief flicker of something crossed the Jedi's features and he paused for a moment. Finally he added, his voice softer, "and look out for Leia, too."

Han felt a sudden pang of fear, "Leia?"

Luke didn't reply. His expression had taken on that distant expression again. Han found himself growing increasingly impatient. The kid was being frustratingly vague. "What's this about Leia? Is she in trouble, too?"

"I..." Luke shook his head, "I don't know."

"But how--"

Luke rested a placating hand on the smuggler's shoulder. "I'll find out more, but until then just keep your eyes open." He waited until Han nodded his agreement, "good. I'll be in touch."

And with that the Jedi headed off across the hangar, a newfound urgency in his stride. The latest ripples he had felt had left him feeling even more trepidation than before. Suddenly he felt his sister's essence and that disturbed the Jedi greatly. Master Yoda had taught him that the future was always in motion. It occurred to the Jedi that that had been the case certainly today. The feelings he had felt wash over him in and outside the 'falcon' were decidedly different than those experienced back at the apartment. 

But they were in no way an improvement. If anything, it was worse. And that was why Luke had felt the sudden compulsion to leave. He just couldn't ignore these negative tremors in the force any longer.

Luke made his way out onto the sidewalks of Coruscant. He was so preoccupied by thoughts of what he had experienced, that even the trained Jedi was unaware of the presence of Leia's husband, a mere several meters away. 

Simon was approaching the hangar at a clip, his strides quick and purposeful. He was there to do business. And when Simon had set out to do something, there was nothing that could slow him down. It was the being in control that invigorated him. He thrived on it. Whether it be in the political forum or his personal life, there was nothing like control.

And that's all Simon was doing right now. That's all this little sparring with Solo was really about. That's why Simon was getting this ship. That's why he was sending Malcolm halfway across the galaxy in search of some Bounty Hunter.

It was about control. 

And Simon was determined to take it back.

********


	23. Chapter Twenty-three

Lando quickened his stride as he fought to keep up with the wookiee racing ahead of him. The general stifled a silent curse as he pushed his way through the crowded streets. It was getting to be later in the morning, and the city was beginning to fill up with it's usual bustle of working citizens. "Hey, Chewie," he called breathlessly, the overhead drone of space traffic almost completely drowning him out, "wait up."

Chewbacca had heard Lando though, and he graced the general with an impatient glance. Chewie was eager to get back to the apartments. That's where Lando had said he thought Han might have gone, and he didn't want to waste anytime in getting there. He certainly didn't need any short- legged human slowing him down. he barked from over his shoulder.

Lando bit back a retort, and instead just shook his head knowingly. The wookiee was understandably excited to see his friend again, so the general could excuse Chewie if he was in a bit of a rush.

And Chewbacca definitely was. It had been a long seven years, even for the wookiee who had seen over two hundred pass in his lifetime. But time seemed to go a lot more slowly when one was grieving. Not that every moment had been completely unhappy for Chewie, He had enjoyed his time with the princess and with Bailey. They were his family now. And he loved them. But in the past seven years there had also been those moments when he had felt a sudden rush of overwhelming sadness. Usually it was when travelling in the falcon, when he was flying through the quiet void of hyperspace. It was then that Chewie would look over at the empty co-pilot seat and remember the friend he had lost. 

He had missed Han. But it was more than that, too. The smuggler had been his best friend, that was true, but he had also been his life debt. His responsibility. The wookiee had sworn to protect Han's life and he had failed. At least, he had thought he had. But now Lando said that Han was alive and on Coruscant. The wookiee didn't even have the words in his language to express how he had felt upon hearing this. Lando had been refreshingly blunt with him. Chewie had told the general to just blurt out whatever was on his mind, and surprisingly, Lando had complied. "I found Han," he had announced with a rush of relief, "he's alive. And he's here." Chewie inwardly winced as he remembered his initial reaction. He had screamed at the general, threatening him with the loss of limbs if this was his idea of a sick joke. But Lando was sincere, and when Chewie realized this, he had swooped up the man in an almost bonecrushing hug.

It was all too good to be true. The idea of seeing his best friend again filled Chewie with such overwhelming happiness that the wookiee felt he couldn't afford to get his hopes up until he saw Han Solo with his own eyes. //There's so much to catch up on,// Chewbacca thought as he quickened his already hasty pace. //So much to say.// The wookiee pressed on despite the haggard breathing of Lando trotting behind him. He wanted to tell Han how he had watched out for his family like he promised. He wanted to make sure that his friend knew that they _had_ looked for him. That he wasn't forgotten. But most of all, Chewie wanted to apologize. He should've fought harder at Cloud City, searched longer after Han was lost, and that he shouldn't have ever given up on him. 

Chewbacca wanted to tell his partner that he was sorry. And the wookiee vowed that he would sacrifice his own life before ever allowing harm to come to Han Solo again.

That was a promise.

*****

Han continued to stare after the young man, long after Luke's back had disapeared from view. He just couldn't get Luke's strange words of warning out of his head. //He has a 'feeling'? What exactly does _that_ mean?// Han shook his head wistfully, trying to smother the uneasiness that was building up in his gut. Something in his friend's tone told the smuggler that he shouldn't take the warning lightly. Luke was very serious, and Han knew that the kid wouldn't have said anything unless he was genuinely concerned. 

Han let out a shaky breath, and briefly his thoughts traveled back to that time on the Millennium Falcon. //What would that be--ten years ago now?// They had been on the way to Alderaan, before they had run straight into the tractor beam of the Death Star. The old man, Kenobi, had been spouting all that nonsense about the 'force', and 'stretching your feelings'. //*Feelings*.// And Luke, who had been just freshly plucked from the farm, had eagerly lapped it all up. Han shook his head at the memory. He remembered how he had been much more skeptical of the whole thing. The smuggler still was, but now he wondered if this 'force' was what Luke was referring to now. 

Han started slightly, as suddenly two arms wrapped themselves tightly around his waist. He looked down and gave the princess a small shaky smile. Leia's brow furrowed with concern, "what's the matter?"

Han shrugged, "I don't know....just something Luke said, I guess."

"What did he say?"

Han looked down at the princess, but didn't say anything. He studied her face curiously for a moment, as if deciding whether he should say something or not. Finally his mouth curved up in feigned amusement and he said, "nothing specific....but is it me, or has the kid gotten kinda strange?"

"Strange?"

"Yeah," Han gave a casual shrug, "I mean he's kinda spacey all of a sudden. I don't remember him being like that on Hoth."

Leia hesitated, and Han could feel her body tense beside him. "Well...." Her eyes shifted nervously as she chose her words carefully. "Luke's been through a lot in the past few years."

Han raised his brow as if asking her to continue, and Leia slowly disentangled herself from the smuggler. She took and breath and reluctantly met Han's gaze. "You remember how Luke used to study up on the force, don't you?"

Han almost smirked, but noting the seriousness of the Leia's tone, he stopped himself. "Sure, I do. Sometimes we could barely get him to talk about anything else."

Leia turned her head and stared out at the open hangar, but she wasn't really looking at the other ships infront of her. She was lost in her thoughts as she struggled with what to say next. "Yeah, well he continued on with it after you..." she hesitated, "after you were gone." She turned back up to Han and gave him a weak smile. "He's fully trained now. Luke's a Jedi."

The smuggler couldn't hide the surprise in his voice, "a Jedi Knight? Luke?"

Leia bit her lip, "a Jedi _Master_, actually."

Han blew out a sigh, his head reeling with a mixture of wonder and disbelief. It was hard for him to put the two images together in his head. Han still saw Luke as the young farmboy, and it was difficult to imagine him on a level with Ben Kenobi. Han didn't know what to say. Finally he just managed a breathless, "wow..."

"I know you don't believe in the force, but-"

"No," Han interrupted, trying to keep his voice light. "No, I think that's great." He gave her an encouraging smile, "after all, it's what the kid always wanted, right?" He shrugged, "Good for him."

Leia studied Han's face questioningly, "you mean that? You believe it? You don't think it's weird or--?"

"I don't know if I _believe_ it, it's just-" Han faltered as he tried to figure what to say next. "That whole Jedi thing, well it's always seemed a little strange to me. Like a bunch of tricks or somethin'. I mean-" Han stopped abruptly as he saw Leia turn away, her face tighening. "Hey listen," he added quickly, his voice apologetic, "but if Luke is happy and found his calling, then more power to him, right?"

The princess brightened a little at this and gave him a small nod. After all, that was probably the best she was going to get from the cynical smuggler. She was actually impressed, Han was taking this better than she thought he would. 

Han fidgeted slightly. He didn't like talking about this kind of stuff. Personally, he didn't trust anything he couldn't see with his own eyes, and talk about that 'all powerful force' always made him uncomfortable. "So," he said lightly, trying to change the subject, "what should we do to fill in the time until Chewie shows up?" He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, and Leia let out a small laugh inspite of herself.

"Watch it," she admonished, "there's a little boy inside."

Han snapped his fingers in mock disapointment, "aww, that's right." He gave her a flirtatious wink, "next time, then." He cast a quick look back up at the falcon and turned back to Leia. "What's he doing, anyway?"

"I told him you would show him a few things in the cockpit," Leia raised an eyebrow uncertainly, "you wouldn't mind, would you?"

"Course not," Han didn't fight the grin pushing up the corners of his mouth, "wow, the kid really _does_ want to fly, doesn't he?"

Leia gave him a knowing smile, "you're his hero, didn't you know that?"

Han's grin faltered slightly and he turned to look across the hangar thoughtfully. "Yeah," he muttered softly, his expression suddenly uncertain. "But I'd settle for just being his regular ol' dad."

Leia reached out and gave his hand an encouraging squeeze. "I'm afraid that's impossible," she replied breezily, "there's never been anything 'regular' about you." She flashed him a reassuring smile as if to try and lighten his mood, but it never quite reached her eyes. The princess was all too aware of what Han was really getting at.

The corner of Han's mouth twitched as if acknowledging her attempt at levity, but his voice was still serious. "That's not what I meant."

"I know," she admitted. Leia studied his expression, quietly taking in the hard outline of the jaw and the slight furrow in his brow. "You're wondering about the Simon situation." Her words came out almost like a resigned sigh.

Han didn't look at her, his gaze stubbornly fixed across the hangar. "Yeah, well it did cross my mind a couple of times." There was a certain forced casualness in his voice, but Leia could sense the underlying tension.

"You want to know what I'm going to do about it."

Han stood there quietly for a moment, as if waiting for her to continue. When he realized she wasn't going to say anything, he turned to her and finally blurted the question that had been plaguing him since the night before. "What _are_ you gonna do?"

Leia let out a heavy sigh and shook her head. She knew she would have to confront this issue sooner or later. It was inevitable. But truthfully, she couldn't. Not yet. Not until she had a certain reassurance of her own; a concern that had been nagging at her since his miraculous return. Leia had pushed it aside, too intent on just relishing his reality, but now she realized that her doubts needed to be brought out into the open. "I don't know," she finally confessed. "It's so complicated."

Han pulled his hand away and turned on her, his expression incredulous. "You don't _know_?"

The suddenness of his movements had momentarily startled the princess and she looked up at the smuggler in confusion. "Han?"

But he wasn't listening. The smuggler abruptly turned away from her, his head shaking in disbelief. "If you don't know, then what's going on here? What are we doing?" He gave her a quick glance, but it was long enough for Leia to see the turmoil behind his eyes. Han let out a sigh and directed the next question to the far end of the hangar. "What is all this? A 'test run' to help you make up your mind?"

Leia shook her head in steadfast denial. "No, Han. It's not like that at all." She reached out and placed a hand on his arm. "I thought you knew me better than that." 

Han swallowed and averted his eyes briefly and he felt a sudden rush of shame. She was right. That had been a unfair thing to say. He was overreacting and he knew it. Maybe Luke's warning had affected him more than he had realized. He was all on edge and taking it out on the wrong person. "You're right. I didn't mean that." He gave her an apologetic look and was relieved to see her expression soften.

Leia gave his arm a slight squeeze and her lips turned up into a sad smile. "You know I love you, but there's other things to consider."

Han's face immediately clouded over and Leia could see his jaw tighten in frustration. "Other things to consider?" His voice rose, "like what? _Simon_?" There was no mistaking the disgust in his voice.

Leia's eyes flicked over to the entry ramp of the Falcon as if making sure Bailey was still out of earshot. She motioned for him to keep his voice down and said in an urgent hushed voice, "Yes. He _is_ my husband. I have to think of his feelings in all this."

Han's eyes widened as he felt a surge of anger resurface, "_his_ feelings?" He turned away again and began pacing frantically. He threw his arms around in helpless frustration, obviously at a loss as to how to expunge his anger.

Leia could feel her patience thinning again. "Yes, Han! I have to consider _his_ feelings," she said hotly. "This is not some teenage romance. I can't just call him up and 'break it off'. We're _married_. I owe him more than that."

Han stopped mid-pacing and his shoulders slumped as if in defeat. He scuffed his boot against the ground in frustration before replying. "Well, fine," he said tightly, "I'm not going to tell you what to do."

Leia felt her stomach clench, his tone suddenly making her nervous. He was misunderstanding her. She didn't want him to stalk off. She needed to talk this out with him. "Han-"

But he surprised her by suddenly spinning around and facing her. There was an earnestness in his eyes. He was infront of her in three quick steps. "Let me just ask you one thing," he said, his face so close that she could feel his breath hot on her face. His voice was low, "what do _you_ want?"

The Princess gazed up at him, her eyes wide. "You _know_ what I want," she said in a urgent whisper. "But it's not--"

Han shook his head and placed a finger on her lips, abruptly cutting her off. "Then just _do_ it. Put yourself first for once, Princess, and to hell with everyone else." He leaned in even closer so that the next words were practically breathed into her ear. "We can _make_ it work."

Leia smiled briefly at this, it all sounded so romantic when he put it like that. //Just her and Han, up against the galaxy!// But it _wasn't_ just the two of them, and she needed to be practical about this. She had to erase that one uncertainty that had been magnified that morning when the smuggler had shown up at her door. The princess felt her expression falter. //Just get it over with// her mind screamed. "It's not just Simon, though..."

Han cocked an eyebrow and his mouth twisted in confusion. "What? What else could-" but his voice died mid-sentence and his face sobered in understanding. "It's the New Republic, isn't it?" It wasn't a question. "You're worried about your career and what being with a guy like me might do to it." 

Leia found herself once again shaking her head in adament denial. "Gods, no," she blurted, "I don't care about _that_!"

Han shrugged, but his expression softened in relief, "then I don't get it. What's the problem?"

The princess swallowed. This was it. //Get it over with, you need to know.// She knew he was going to take this the wrong way. "It's Bailey," she finally admitted.

Han was silent a moment, his eyes widening slightly as her statement sunk in. "Bailey? What about him?"

"Well, he's just a little boy. And it's complicated--"

"Complicated," he spat in disgust, "there's that word again." Han shook his head again in genuine confusion. "What's so complicated? I'm his father! He likes me, you said so yourself."

"He _adores_ you," she amended, her voice was beginning to rise again in mild desperation. She just had to get this all out right now. "That's part of the problem, don't you see?"

"No, I don't see it at all."

Leia took a steadying breath in an attempt to calm her suddenly jangled nerves. "You just found out about him last night. You haven't had time to see the whole picture." The princess took a step towards Han and once again reached for his hand. "Being a parent is a full-time job," Leia clasped his sturdy han in hers and gave it another squeeze. "And I just want you to be sure that you're up to it, before I-" she let out a shaky breath, "before _Bailey_ gets too attached."

Han looked down at her hand in his, absently noting how small and delicate her fingers looked against his. It softened something inside of him and he rubbed his thumb across her knuckles thoughtfully. "What are you saying?" His voice was surprisingly low, "you don't think I can do it?"

Leia's stomach tightened, the question had hurt him. She knew it would, but she _had_ to be certain. She _had_ to ask. "I know you can," she replied carefully, her eyes begging him to understand. "I just need to make sure that you _want_ to. It would mean giving up a lot for you and--"

Han surprised her by suddenly dropping her hand. He shook his head and broke out into a small chuckle, but it there was no real amusement behind it. "Careful, Princess," he said, meeting her gaze again, "you're starting to sound like that husband of yours."

His remark stung, and it took Leia a moment to put together a coherent response. "I don't mean it to hurt you, Han. Please don't take it that way. It's just that-" Leia shook her head in exasperation, "it was never something we ever had a chance to talk about. During the war, everything just went so fast, and I know how much you cherish your freedom--"

"Okay, I get it," he said gruffly, and to punctuate his frustration he scuffed his boot angerly against the floor. "I never exactly painted myself as great family man material. I know that."

"You're wrong," she insisted, "you'll be a great father. That's not what I meant."

"I know what you meant," he said with quick annoyance, but then his expression softened. There was a moment of heavy silence between the two of them. Finally Han gave her an imploring look and the tenderness was back in his eyes. "What do I have to do to prove to you that this is what I want? That I'm for real?"

"Just your word." The corners of her mouth turned up slightly, as if in reassurance. "That's all I need." 

Han actually smiled and he took her hand and raised it up against his lips. "Then I'm telling you right now, I love you and I'm already crazy about Bailey." Suddenly there was a playful spark in his eye and his smile widened to a woflish grin. "And being the greedy mercenary that I am," he added, "I don't want to share you two with anyone."

And like something out of the force, Leia felt the heavy weight of doubt magically lifted from her shoulders. In a rush, she let out a breath that she didn't even know she was holding.

That was all she needed to hear.

********

Simon pushed his way through a small clump of aliens, his patience rapidly thinning. His eyes scanned the hangar, looking for the small ship that would provide Malcolm his passage to Tatooine. Simon knew it had to be here somewhere. The pilot, a squat and stocky Bothan named Blisk, told him he would have the ship waiting and ready. Normally Simon didn't trust Bothans as far as he could throw them, but he always knew he could count on Bliskk to come through for him. The bothan had been reliable on many of the past dealings Simon had with him. 

Leia's husband could feel his jaw tighten in annoyance. //Although not today,// he thought bitterly. //Where's that damn ship?//

It was then that Simon's eyes caught on a familar sight over in the far corner of the hangar. He felt a small stab of panic crawl up his spine as his gaze rested on the battle worn Millennium Falcon, sitting with its usual seeming confident air. Simon silently cursed his stupidity. _Of course_ the ship would've been docked here. Chewie had been working on the fledging hyperdrive for several days, he would naturally keep the ship where the best mechanical droids and supplies were available. //Typical of my luck these days,// he thought crossly. 

Simon rubbed a frustrated hand across his face as he considered his next move. A nagging instinct deep in his gut told him to flee in the other direction. Slip out quietly before he was seen. Before he was caught. But his feet were stubbornly rooted to the ground, and his eyes were inexplicably drawn to the corellian freighter.

And that's when he saw them. 

They were right there; standing at the foot of the Falcon's entry ramp. His petite Alderaanian princess and that repulsively common smuggler. Talking. Together. His wife unabashedly clasping that spacer's hand in her own. Right out in the open for any sentinent to see. As if it were the most acceptable thing in the world. Simon almost smirked in perverse amusement. //Oooh, but if the senate could see you now, _Princess_...// 

Solo slowly raised the princess' hand to his mouth and Simon instantly felt his mirth go cold. There was something about that simple gesture that infuriarated Simon more than any other. He couldn't pinpoint what it was exactly, but it gnawed at him like nothing else. It stabbed him with a pain that was ten times worse than any of the sexual scenerios he had tortured himself with over the past several hours. 

Leia's husband could feel a familar fist of jealousy tighten painfully in his stomach. He blew out a shaky breath as his mind raced with conflicting thoughts. He wanted to confront them. Avoid them. Kill them. A steady stream of broken scenerios raced before his eyes. //The princess and that pilot in bed...Leia and Solo laughing at him. Mocking him. Delighting in their adultery. Thinking him a _fool_....// Simon drew in an angry hiss. Well, he would just show them who was the _real_ fool in this scenerio. He would get the _last_ laugh in all this.

Simon quickly turned on his heels. He had a plan, after all. And he needed to stay on track and keep his mission in focus. That Bothan had to be _somewhere_. He would find him. He let out a disdainful snort. Let Leia get her last kicks, what did it really matter? It would all work out for him in the end.

But as Simon was making his way to the exit of the hangar, a familar voice stopped him in his tracks. "Hey, Daddy," the boy's cheerful soprano carried easily across the hangar. 

Simon froze. For one heart-stopping moment, he was sure that he had been spotted. But as he slowly turned back towards the ship, he was greeted with the sight of Bailey bounding down the ramp towards the smuggler. "Look what I found," the boy exclaimed excitedly, eagerly thrusting something in the pilot's face.

Simon let out a sigh, he hadn't been seen by the boy after all. But his initial relief was quickly squelched with anger when he realized the full implications of what he was seeing. 

Simon could barely make out Leia's exasperated response as she bent to take a closer look at her son. "Oh, Bailey. No!" The smuggler turned away in clear amusement and the princess awarded him with a hot look. She turned back to the boy, "what a mess! Where did you find all this?"

Simon's head was pounding and his mind was reeling. //What's going on?!// He could barely contain the rage he felt slowly beginning to boil up within him. //What? Did they think they could just edge him out of the picture without a second thought??// _Damn_ her. Damn them _both_. //Bailey's _my_ son. _Mine_.//

Simon absently noted that Leia was now ushering the boy back up the ramp. The muffled tone of her voice making it clear that she was softly reprimanding the child. His jaw clenched angerly as he watched Solo slowly follow in their wake. 

This is just *too much*, Simon thought bitterly. It was one thing if Leia wanted to have a quick fling with the spacer or go slumming just for the hell of it. Simon didn't necesarily like it, but he could cope with it. But it was quite another for her to drag their son into the whole twisted scenerio. That just made him sick. 

Simon wouldn't stand for it. _Couldn't_ stand for it. He could almost taste the bitterness of bile in his mouth as the anger coursed through him. His tolerance had reached it's limit. And suddenly, without further thought, the scorned husband stormed towards the loading ramp of the Millennium Falcon. Thoughts of his 'carefully laid plans' and 'playing it cool' were rapdily forgotten. Gone. Anger had suddenly one the battle over reason.

Simon was going to have this out with them. Right now.

******* 


	24. Chapter Twentyfour

"But Uncle Chewie lets me have them all the time!"

Leia bit her lip, fighting to keep her expression stern. This was proving to be difficult against the ridiculous appearance of her six year old son. Bailey gazed up at her in wide-eyed innocence, smears of dark surrounding his mouth like a chocolate goatee. Another dark stain marred the front of his shirt, as if the treat had literally melted right on top of it. Leia pursed her lips together, "look at you," she said shaking her head lightly, "what a mess..."

Han let a small chuckle from behind her. "Maybe it would be easier to just throw him straight into valet unit."

Bailey's eyes widened considerably at this. He gave his father an incredulous look as if trying gauge whether the man was serious. The boy glanced back at his mother. "But you're not really gonna, right?" Bailey reached up and scratched his nose nervously as he waited for her reply.

"Of course not," she answered smoothly, her mouth quirking up slightly at the brown smudge that Bailey had unknowingly left at the tip of his nose. "He's just teasing."

Bailey's shoulders sagged in relief. "Oh," he said with feigned confidence, "yeah, I thought so."

"Still," she said, crouching down infront of the boy. "You _do_ need to get cleaned up." She cocked an appraising eyebrow, as studied his face more closely. Suddenly, as if by magic, she had a small handkerchief in her hand which she proceded to use to wipe at the child's face.

"Aw, Mom." He protested, flinching away from her hand. Bailey shot a quick glance at the smuggler and then back to his mother. "I can do it myself."

Leia rocked back on her heals. "Oh, right." She gave one last swipe at his chin before adding, "but I think you really need to jump into the refresher."

Bailey abruptly jumped back and out of his mother's reach. His expression was one of horror, as if Leia had actually suggested something along the lines of gruesome torture. "No, I don't!" He stubbornly grabbed the tissue from her hand. "I can get it off. I don't need a stupid bath."

"Okay, fine," Leia conceded and Bailey's expression brightened with relief. "But," she amended, "you better get a wet towel and wipe everything off. _Everything_," she gave him a knowing smile, "especially those sticky little hands of yours."

Bailey nodded with easy agreement and then tore off towards the refresher, as if trying to get away before his mother had time to reconsider her decision. Leia watched him trot away and could almost feel Han wincing as Bailey absently brushed his grubby hands along random panels of the _Falcon_ as he went. But when she turned to the smuggler, she was surprised to see, not the grimace she expected, but a knowing grin.

"Hey," he said, the smile on his face broadening. He took a step towards her, "alone at last, huh?"

Leia felt a familar heat rise in her cheeks and her lips turned up shyly. "Not for long, I'm afraid."

Han shrugged good naturedly, "that's okay," he said, reaching for her hand, "I'll take what I can get." He gently pulled her towards him until their faces were merely inches apart. "After all, stealing kisses is what I do best."

Leia grinned mischievously, "that among other things."

Han stopped, a look of pleased surprise dawning across his features. Wow, he had really missed this. "Hey Princess," he said softly, rubbing cauloused thumb across her cheek. "Looks like you got some on you." Suddenly Han's lips were pressed lightly against her skin, where his thumb had just been. They worked softly against her flesh and slowly trailed down to her mouth. 

Leia tightened her arms around him and drew him even closer. If she stopped to think about this too much, it still all seemed so unreal. Impossible. So she preferred not to think too much about it at all. She would just focus on the warm sensations of his mouth against hers. Fall into it. _Gods, I love him..._

It took another moment before the shadow at the door made his presence known. "Well, look here," came a sneering voice, "isn't this a cozy scene?"

The princess jerked away from Han with a start, her head instantly drawn to the figure standing at the top of the ramp. "Simon!" She gasped, her face suddenly white with surprise. "Wha-what are you doing here?"

Simon glared at her cooly, the corners of his mouth twisting into a leer. "I could ask you the same question, _Princess_, but I think the answer to that is already quite obvious." He gave her a small sardonic smile, "although, I have to admit I'd be a bit surprised if you even remember how to do it."

Han made a move towards him, his jaw clenched, but Leia stopped him with a hand on the arm. She gave it a quick squeeze as if to say _don't_, but her gaze never left her husband. "I'm so sorry, Simon. Really, I-" She hesitated, her mind racing to find the right words. "This is not how I imagined having this conversation," she finally said.

Simon's nostrils flared angerly, his eyes turning to slits as he took in the presence of her hand on Solo's arm. "Save your apologies," the man spat, his gaze still boring into the smuggler's arm. "You're not sorry for me. You're sorry for getting caught," Simon jerked a chin in Han's direction, "and what _this_ will mean for your royal reputation."

Leia could practically feel the anger radiating from Han's body. It was like a tangible heat coming off of him. His temper was thinning fast, and the Princess prayed silently to the goddesses that Simon would hold his tongue. She stole a quick glance in Han's direction. His face was hard and he was glaring unflinchingly in the other man's direction. "Simon," she said calmly, turning her attention back to her husband. Leia's mind was now settling down long enough for her to recall a few shreds of diplomatic training. "Maybe we should just sit down for a moment--"

Simon snorted in disgust, "no, I don't think so, _dear_. I don't feel like turning this into some sick senate meeting between you, me, and your _lover_."

"Simon...." There was a sympathetic pleading in her voice. She really did feel terrible about this.

"Just let him go, Leia." Han finally said, his voice surprisingly quiet.

Simon raised an eyebrow in amusement, his attention shifting to the smuggler beside her. "I'm sorry, Captain Solo, were you under the impression I was leaving?" 

"Yeah, I think you better."

"Now? Just as things are getting interesting?" Simon shook his head in mock disbelief, as if he couldn't possibly even fathom the idea. "But I wanted to stay for the whole show! After all," his eyes sparkled in perverse amusement, "I've never seen royalty spread her legs for cantina trash before."

Leia's cheeks reddened with mortification. "Simon--!"

"Why, you--" Han was across the room in two quick strides, his arms lashing out in a blur to shove the other man roughly into the nearest wall. Simon heard a crunch as his back fell hard against one of the falcon's control panels. He tried to ignore the shooting pains racing up his spine as he looked up to meet Solo's gaze. The smuggler's face was now merely inches from his. _Well, this certainly seems familar...._

"You don't talk to her that way," Han's grip tightened and his voice was thick with unspoken threats, "*ever*. Understand?"

Simon tried to form his expression into a convincing sneer, but found all he could muster was a small twitch of the cheek. "I'll talk to _my wife_ any way I'd like, Captain--"

"No," Han interrupted, pushing the man even harder against the panel. "Wrong answer. Let's try this again." He glared at Simon without compromise, his grip tightening with each passing moment. "Now, apologize."

Simon finally found his smirk, and was vaguely aware of Leia protesting in the background. He was also surprised to realize that he didn't feel even a trace of the fear that had plagued him in the bar that morning. Suddenly it was gone, because this time was different. He knew now that Solo wouldn't hurt him-- he wouldn't _dare_.

"Han!" Leia called hotly from behind him, "you're not helping things!"

"That's right, Leia," Simon said, his voice snide, "call your pet rancor off."

"Han!"

But Han ignored her, his glare stubbornly fixed on the man infront of him. "Apologize," he repeated, his voice rising slightly. Suddenly, one of the smuggler's hands was pressed against the man's throat.

Simon just continued to smirk up at him, his eyes almost daring Han to do something. "Look at this, Leia," he called nonchalantly, his infuriating gaze never leaving the pilot's face. "See what he's doing to me? This is some role model, huh?"

"Shut up, Simon." Leia returned sharply, her tone almost defensive. But her husband's words had the desired effect. Feeling a sudden rush of shame, Solo loosened his grip and slowly stepped away from the man. 

"Why thank you, Captain Solo." Simon said, his voice ringing with insincere gratitude. He made a show of straightening his clothing. "It certainly is wonderful to be able to breathe again. I appreciate it."

Han was silent a moment, his face still hard. "Simon," he finally said, his voice hollow. "Why don't you get out of here."

"Certainly," Simon replied easily, "just let me collect the boy and I'll be out of your hair."

This last remark froze the princess, and her back stiffened. "What?" Leia was incredulous. She couldn't believe she had heard him correctly.

Simon turned to her, his tone still deceptively casual. "Well, naturally you don't expect me to leave the child in an environment such as this." He motioned to the smuggler, "between Captain Solo and his hair trigger temper, and you with your--" Simon smirked in amusement, "well, I mean who knows _what_ the two of you are going to be up to in here." He cleared his throat meaningfully, "I would just feel better knowing that Bailey was with me. Where it's safer."

"Safer?!" Han's shoulders squared in defiance. He looked ready to lunge at the man again.

Leia was a little more level-headed. "I appreciate your concern, Simon," she responded with surprising civility, "but I assure you, Bailey is fine where he is."

"I seriously doubt that one."

"Why don't you mind your own damn business," Han blurted angerly, "and let us decide what's best for our son--"

Leia shot him a warning look, "Han-"

Simon laughed abruptly, cutting off the rest of the princess' remarks. "_Your_ son??" He shook his head in amazed disbelief, "you're back for barely two days and suddenly he's _your_ son?!"

Leia swung her attention back to her husband, suddenly feeling like she were a referee in some professional fighting match. "Simon--"

"That's right," Han growled angerly, seemingly oblivious to the princess' growing distress. "I _am_ his father and now that I _am_ back, your services are no longer needed."

"We'll just see about that."

"Oh, we will," Han replied darkly, "don't you worry."

Simon responded with a cool glare, and suddenly the air fell eerily quiet. The two men took a moment, as if re-sizing each other up. Simon's expression was impossible to read, his face nothing more than an impassive mask. But just for one fleeting moment, Han could've swore he saw the man's mouth turn up in a faint smile and a knowing shine flash through his eyes. It was as if Simon was silently warning the smuggler that this thing was far from being over. Then it was gone. And for some inexplicable reason, Han felt his stomach tighten nervously, followed by a quick rush of shame. He couldn't believe he was letting Simon unnerve him so much. This little weasel was intimidating _him_. //Pathetic, Solo.//

Suddenly, the air in the room changed again.

"Dad?"

"Bailey," Han heard the princess gasp from behind him. Surprised, he turned guiltily towards the entrance way. 

The boy stood there in stunned silence. His wide eyes flicking nervously between the two men. "I heard yelling," he explained in a soft whisper.

Han swallowed tensely and tried to force a pleasant grin on his face. "It's okay, Bailey. It was just a small disagreement, but it's over now. So, there's nothing for you to be scared about."

The boy didn't look convinced and he remained rooted in the doorway. He tugged at his lip anxiously and his gaze moved to his step-father. "Hi, Simon," he greeted shyly.

Simon pressed a phony smile to his face. "Hi there, buddy," he replied, his voice filled with a bit too much forced cheer. "How are you?"

Bailey gave him a small smile. "Good. My daddy came home."

"I know," Simon responded tightly, and the warmth on his face dissipated.

"I got to show him my room," the boy announced, his voice growing with excitement, " and one day he's going to teach me to fly as good as him."

Simon felt every one of his muscles clench at this last remark, and his face reddened with renewed anger. *This man was in my house??*

Han recognized the look of controlled fury building on Simon's face. Alarms went off in the back of his mind. The man looked like a thermal detonator about to go off. "Hey Bailey," Han said lightly, reaching out his hand. "Why don't you come over here." Simon was quickly making him uneasy. 

The child nodded and took a step towards the smuggler. 

"Don't you move, Bailey!" The boy's body jerked to a startled halt. The fierceness of the command caused him to look up at Simon with alarm. He had never heard his step father yell like that before. What did he do wrong? Bailey felt frozen with indecision. He looked between the men with wide eyed uncertainty, completely at a loss with what to do.

"It's okay," Han offered again, his arm still outstretched. "You're not in trouble, just come here."

Simon was glaring at the smuggler again. "Don't move," he repeated, his gaze still fixed on Solo. "Stay right there."

Bailey looked stricken and he continued to glance back and forth between the two men. Finally his unsteady gaze came to rest on his mother. "Momma?"

Leia, who had been watching this whole scene with a growing sense of outrage, managed to soften her expression long enough to offer her son a small comforting smile. 

That was all the boy needed. With his arms outstretched, the child raced towards his mother. "Momma," he sniffed, wrapping his arms around the princess' waist. Leia put a comforting arm around the boy as he buried his face into her shirt. Then she looked back up at Simon and Han and her expression hardened. "You two should be ashamed of yourselves, carrying on this way. He's a little boy, not some weapon to be used against eachother."

Han had the decency to look embarrassed and his eyes fell guiltily to the floor. 

Simon only snorted. "Oh, that's rich," he said, with that familar smugness back in his voice. "You're a fine one to talk about being 'ashamed'."

Han's head jerked back up, his body once more tensing up with anger. "You better watch that mouth, Simon."

"Han," Leia said, once again throwing him a look of warning. "Please, just ignore him."

"Yes, 'ignore me'." There was almost a perverse gleefulness in Simon's voice now. "You would know all about that, wouldn't you, Princess? After all, you've been doing that to me for years."

Leia turned to her husband, her expression remarkably impassive. "I know you're angry with me Simon," she said calmly, her voice perfectly even. "And I know you have your reasons. We have a lot to discuss and I will be more than willing to sit down with you and work out all the details." She motioned her head towards the child clinging to her waist, "but we will do it at a later time." Leia straightened, "now if you two want to kill each other, go right ahead. But Bailey and I don't need to stick around and watch." The princess pushed past Simon to head for the boarding ramp, when suddenly his hand shot out and gripped her arm tightly.

He pulled her towards him. "You think it's over? It's not over." Simon's expression was now wide open and desperate, "it's not that easy. You can't just leave _me_.That's not how it works."

Leia swallowed and yanked her arm out of his vice-like grip. "Don't touch me," she warned with an icy coolness. She moved to push past him again and this time when he tried to make a grab for her, Han was there to block him. Before Simon even had time to respond, Han swung a fist into his jaw. Leia let out a startled yelp as Simon hit the deck with a resounding thud. 

There was a heavy moment of silence, and Leia slowly turned her head to give the smuggler a stunned look. Bailey sniffled nervously, and tightened his grip around the reeling princess.

"Sorry," Han mumbled, shaking his fist out. "I thought he was going to hurt you."

Leia nodded numbly and she stared back down at her husband. She would be angry at Han later--she knew she would-- but right now all she wanted was this whole horrid scene to be over.

Simon sat sprawled on the deck, rubbing at his jaw in dazed disbelief. Suddenly, he felt something warm against his mouth, and when he pulled his fingers away from his face he was startled to see them stained with blood. His blood. Solo had actually split his mouth open. He stifled a groan as he felt a sharp pain race through his face. It felt like Solo might've also cracked his jaw in the process. _Bastard._

Above him, Leia finally found her voice again, "I think you should go, Simon."

This time he could hardly find the energy to disagree with her. Tentatively pushing himself up from the deck, Simon spared Solo a quick glare. "Don't worry, Captain Solo," he remarked with bitter irony, "I can show myself out."

Han didn't respond, but just gazed back at him cooly, a look of almost regret passing briefly over his features. 

Simon shook his head in disgust and turned to leave. Stepping towards the ramp, he paused at the doorway, and with his back still facing them, he let out one last parting shot. "It's fine, Solo. You can *have* her. She's hardly worth the trouble." 

And with that he stumbled down the ramp, his head still spinning from the hit he had taken. But he didn't stop to look back even once. After all, Simon was sincere when he said that Han could have the princess. Leia was no longer his concern. 

It was the boy he was after now.

********


	25. Chapter Twentyfive

Xavier sat slouched in one of the reclining couches, his mind continuiously reviewing his boss' earlier odd behavior. His eyes cautiously wandered over to the closed cockpit door. Malcolm had still not come out, even after Calrissian had gone off with Solo's wookiee friend. And when the young man had made an attempt to talk to his boss, Malcolm had demanded through the sealed door to be left alone. The older man had 'some thinking to do' and he was in no mood for distractions.

So Xavier continued to sit in silence, his fingers absently toying with the abandoned sabacc cards still splayed out before him. The golden protocol droid sat across from him, it's head tilted in what could only be described as a kind of mechanical curiosity. 

"Sir," the droid began carefully and Xavier had to stifle an impatient sigh. The last thing the young man wanted was to listen to that thing start up it's incessant babbling again. It was hard enough to get it to be quiet the first time.

"What?" Xavier asked warily.

"Chewbacca and General Calrissian have been gone a long period of time and I was wondering--"

"I don't know," Xavier interrupted crossly. "I don't know where they went and I don't know when they'll be back, okay?"

Threepio paused for a moment, as if considering this statement. "Very well," he finally replied. There was almost a trace of resignation in his voice. 

Xavier looked away from the droid and slowly began to collect the sabacc cards from the table. He felt a quick pang of shame for his churlish attitude, but tried to dismiss it. After all, this was just a _machine_ he was talking to, he didn't really have to feel sorry. It wasn't as if the droid, under all that wiring and plating, actually had any feelings to hurt. Although, he admited silently, See-Threepio seemed more human than any droid he had ever met before. 

Xavier had to stop that line of thought. If Malcolm knew what he was thinking he'd probably joke at the young man for being overly sensitive again. But Xavier couldn't help it, he guessed some things were just too ingrained.The young man finished collecting the cards and slowly looked up at the droid sitting across from him again. "Hey," he said, unable to resist making amends, even if it _was_ just a machine. "You know how to play sabacc?"

Threepio looked at him with a start, as if his processors were whirring to comprehend how the young man could actually be addressing him out of his own free will. "Why certainly," he finally replied, "I am programmed in the rules and regulations of over one hundred forms of the game."

Xavier felt his mouth dry. _A hundred_?

"What set of rules were you interested in using for this round?" The droid inquired enthusiastically,

Xavier licked his lips. "Well, uh," he said with uncertainty, "um, the 'standard ones'? General Calrissian didn't really--" But his thoughts were suddenly interrupted by the welcome sound of footfalls coming up the boarding ramp. Xavier jumped out of his seat with a start. "Great," he breathed in relief, "that must be him now."

The young man made his way towards the entrance way in three quick strides, eager for the additional company to dispell his poor mood. "General--" Xavier halted to an abrupt stop, his smile quickly fading as he took in the form that was suddenly framed in the doorway. "What--?"

The man at the top of the ramp gazed at him dully, his stare almost accusing as he took in the younger one standing in his way. He had a stained handkerchief pressed against his jaw, and his once expensive shirt was spotted with dark red blotches. "Where's Malcolm," he asked evenly, a threatening edge to his voice.

Xavier hesitated. The man adjusted the rag he held against his face, and Xavier caught a quick glimpse of discolored skin. The man's jaw was rapidly swelling and it lent an uneven, almost comical, appearance to his sharp featured face. "I-uh," the young man sputtered, "what is this about?"

"Business," Simon replied impatiently. "Now where is he?"

Xavier swallowed, "in the cockpit."

Simon nodded shortly and brusquely shoved the younger man aside as he made his way towards the sealed door.

"Wait," Xavier protested weakly, "I don't think--"

But Simon was already slamming his fist impatiently against the metal door. "Malcolm," he commanded hotly, "it's me. Open up."

"Sir, you can't just--" But Xavier's words died in his throat as the man suddenly took a step back and the cockpit slid open. Malcolm stood on the otherside, and expression of wary apprehension on his face. He sighed and motioned the disheveled man through the door. 

Xavier's mind reeled in confusion. //What was going on here?// He shot his boss a questioning look, "Sir?"

Malcolm met his gaze briefly before abruptly turning away. "This is private, Xavier," he replied gruffly, his hand already reaching to seal the door again.

"But-!"

Xavier's pleading tone was lost on Malcolm, who's attention was already focused to the other man now hidden from view. As the door slid shut, Xavier heard the hard edge in the other man's voice as he pronounced coolly, "there's been a change of plans...." Then the cockpit sealed up with a resounding hiss, and the rest of the words were abruptly cut off. 

Xavier stood there in quiet shock for a moment. His brain frantically trying to put the pieces together. He couldn't figure this out. //What was Malcolm getting involved in?// It was not like his boss to get pulled into something shady like this. Well, he had had his share of 'crooked' deals in the past, but nothing as darkly suspicious as what this was shaping up to be. 

Xavier licked his lips nervously, his numb mind finally registering the annoyed and endless monologue coming from the droid behind him. "What was that?" He asked Threepio absently.

"Well!" The droid huffed in irritation, "it's not like Master Simon to so rudely dismiss my presence like that. It was as if I wasn't even in the room! And after all these years of faithful service. I only work to please him and--"

The young man turned to the droid with sudden interest, "you know him?"

"Why, of course," Threepio replied matter-of-factly, "that was Master Simon. Although, by his strange appearance I almost didn't recognize him. He must of run into trouble of some sort. I do hope he--"

Xavier shook his head impatiently, his brain struggling to pinpoint the significance of what he heard. "Simon?" //Why did that name sound so familar?//

The droid paused, it's inanimate expression somehow managing to convey mild surprise. "Why, the princess' husband, of course."

Xavier turned back to sealed cockpit, a vague understanding beginning to dawn over him. He still wasn't sure what was going on, but the sudden heaviness in his gut told him it wasn't good. And Malcolm was getting pulled into the thick of it. If he could only figure out _what_ was going on exactly, then maybe-- "Threepio," he said suddenly, an idea suddenly forming. "You're a protocol droid, right?"

"Why, yes," he replied cheerfully. "I'm fluent in over six million forms of communication-"

"That includes ships, too. Right?"

"Well," the droid hesitated, "it is not a specialty of my programming, but yes, I am quite competent at--"

"Could you tell the computer to open the comm-units that are stationed all over this ship? Say like, the one in the cockpit?" 

"I'm not sure if that's quite within my capabalities."

"Well, try." Xavier said urgently.

"May I inquire as to why you wish for me to--"

"The cockpit," he interrupted, his voice rising with growing excitement, "I need to hear what's going on in the cockpit."

"But, sir! I couldn't possibly be so invasive as to broadcast--"

"Just do it!"

"Oh, dear," The golden droid shook his head fretfully, "Master Simon will not be pleased..."

"Master Simon' doesn't need to know."

"But, sir!"

"Please Threepio," Xavier pleaded, his voice taking on a softer tone. "I wouldn't ask if it weren't important. It-" the young man hesitated, and then decided to play his hunch. "It involves the princess."

"Mistress Leia?" 

The droid's voice rang with an alarm that surprised the young man. "Yeah," he replied with forced patience. "So can you help me or not?"

"Oh, dear," Threepio sighed, his voice clearly conveying his misgivings. "I'll do my best..."

****

Xavier suppressed a groan of frustration as he stood impatiently behind the working protocol droid. Threepio had been tampering with the ship's main computer for no more than a minute or two, but every passing moment felt excrutiating to the young man. Xavier wiped his palms anxiously against the legs of his pants. The tense silence making his shaky breathes to seem overwhelmingly loud in his ears. The only other sound in the room was an intermittent static that hissed through a small speaker. 

Threepio threw up his arms in mechanical exasperation as if suddenly fed up with the stubborn ship. "Why, really....!"

Xaver bit his lip, desperate to tune out the inane ramblings of the flustered droid. The young man was too intent on focusing in on what might be going on in the cockpit. As if maybe by concentrating hard enough, he would magically pick up what they were saying through the metal door. //What was going on in there? What important information was being passed as they stood dallying infront of the console?//

"Oh, dear...." Threepio muttered mostly to himself, snapping the young man from his reverie.

"What is it?" Xavier asked, unable to keep the impatience from straining his voice. "Can't you get it to work?"

"Well, normally I would just bypass the main circuitry leading into the communications module, but I'm afraid General Calrissian has made some very strange modifications to the wiring..."

"So....?"

"Well, it's altered the ship's language slightly and--oh!" Threepio tilted back his head in sudden surprise. A light blinked and the crackling static thinned out. "Wait, I do believe I've found it....!"

Xavier leaned in eagerly, careful not to bump into the working joints of the golden droid. See-Threepio made a few more adjustments and the static broke abruptly and the urgent sound of Malcolm's voice was suddenly bursting from the speaker. "----you're crazy. You obviously haven't thought this through."

"This is _all_ I have been thinking about," Simon replied sharply. "For _seven years_ all I've _done_ is think about this." His voice was defensive, and the stealy edge was unmistakable--even through the small com-unit.

Malcolm's immediate response was lost in a sudden burst of static. Xavier tightened his grip on the droid's shoulder. "Threepio--!"

But the interference fizzled out and the voice returned through the speaker with a newfound clarity. "--political suicide! Even if I did help, you would _never_ get away with it."

"You _were_ going to help me," Simon retorted hotly, "this isn't so different. And let me worry about _my_ back, you worry about yours."

"But he's a kid! You can't just _take_ him!"

Xavier could feel the breath catch in his throat and unconsciously his hand reached to steady himself against the droid's metal shoulder. This was sounding worse than he had thought. //Oh gods, sir, don't listen to him...//

"He's _my_ kid, Malcolm. And I will not stand by as that woman and her pirate boyfriend poison him against me."

There was a sudden clattering noise on the other end and the voices fell quiet. Xavier swallowed nervously, he could feel the tension permeating from the comm unit as clearly as if he were right in the cockpit with them. 

There was another beat of silence before Malcolm finally spoke up again, his voice quiet. "The boy is Solo's son, Simon. Not yours."

The young man shook his head fearfully. //That was the wrong thing to say.// Xavier took an unconscious step back from the speaker as if anticipating another violent outburst from Simon, but one never came. There was just a heavy moment of silence, before Simon's voice came forth again. It was made of steel and in such even control, that it gave Xavier a chill. "He _is_ mine. _I_ raised that boy. I've shaped and molded him for the future. _I've_ prepared him." Simon scoffed, "Solo's nothing more than biology. He can do nothing for Bailey, except blow his chances. I, on the otherhand, will be saving him."

****

Malcolm was silent for a moment. He studied Simon's expression carefully. The lights from the control panels were casting a strange glow across the other's man's face. His botton lip looked bloated and red. His jaw was taking on a deep purple color. Simon's appearance was disconcerting to Malcolm, and he found himself quickly averting his eyes. He turned towards the pilot controls, as if the blinking lights were of a newfound interest to him. 

There was a beat as Malcolm deliberately chose his words. Finally, he said, "What about the princess? She's the boy's _mother_--in _every_ sense. And she's got power, too." He shook his head thoughtfully, "if you take the kid, there's no way she's just going to sit on her hands. You'll have the entire New Republic on your back within hours."

"Don't _worry_ about it," Simon said confidently, "I've already thought of that."

"But Simon-"

"Just do your part and I'll take care of the rest."

Malcolm swallowed. What Simon was asking of him was just too much. He couldn't dream of carrying it out, but he couldn't dare refuse either. The man had already made it clear from the beginning what would happen to him if he refused. "You mean Solo..."

Simon nodded. "Remember what's in it for you-- if you pull this off."

"I know."

Simon smiled. But it was an icy grin, one with no real humor. "But more importantly, remember what's in it for you if you don't."

Malcolm nodded numbly, his head spinning with the implications. He was definitely in too deep now.

Simon reached up and patted his lip with the stained cloth in his hand. "Good," he said evenly. His lips twisted into a grimace as he touched upon the tender part of his jaw. "I'm glad we have an understanding then." Simon smiled again, and this time Malcolm caught a glimpse of the well-bred politician. The one who had managed to charm millions of voters and inspire trust from setinents of all species. But in another instant it was gone, and Simon was his true self again. He turned and reached to palm the door's release. "I'll be in touch," he said shortly. Then the door slid open and the man stalked out, leaving a brooding Malcolm in his wake.

The older man felt sick, his gut now clenching in apprehension. He almost needed to reach out a hand to steady himself. Malcolm took a deep breath and frantically tried to organize his thoughts, but they seemed to be racing by him too fast. When he glanced up again, he was startled to see a gaping Xavier framed in the doorway. The kid's face was drained of all it's color.

"Malcolm..." the young man gasped in a horrified whisper.

Malcolm felt a dull stab of panic. He wondered how much the kid knew. The older man turned away, his tone immediately on the defensive, "what?"

Xavier fought back a bout of nausea, his brain still reeling from the stray bits of information he had overheard through the speaker. "Tell me you're not going to do this." There was a pleading in his voice.

Malcolm looked up with a start. He was caught off guard by the young man's request. So, Xavier _had_ heard it all. "Do what?" He asked gruffly, still not willing to concede to the young man that anything was up at all. 

"You know...." Xavier's gazed shot to his feet, his confidence slowly dwindling. "...with the kid...." He swallowed, "and Captain Solo..."

Malcolm felt his hackles rise, hoping that through indignance he might be able to conceal the shame that was threatening to overwhelm him. "Ah, you don't understand nothing, kid." He snarled, abruptly pushing the young man out of his way as he went through the door. "Just mind your own business."

But Xavier wasn't going to let this go. He couldn't. What his friend was planning to do was _wrong_. He was thinking about destroying entire _lives_. "I can't believe you, Malcolm." He called to the older man's back, "you should've listened to me on Tatooine, now everything's more screwed up than ever."

Malcolm's spine grew rigid at the kid's words, but he didn't turn around. "Oh, yeah?" He said defensively, "and what's _that_ supposed to mean?"

"You know what I'm talking about." Xavier replied, his voice dropping to a whisper, "Captain Solo. We should've just left him in the carbonite. Everyone would've been better off." The young man let out a despondant sigh, "especially his family."

Malcolm turned with an angry retort on his lips, but quickly swallowed it. The heavy weight of shame snuffing out any smart remark he might've made. After all, the kid was right. In the very beginning, Xavier had wanted to leave the smuggler where they had found him in that abandoned cave. Just leave him half buried in sand and never look back. But Malcolm had refused.

And now the older man was beginning to wish they had done just that.

********

Han breathed in the air of his ship, letting the familiar scent of motor oil and engine lube to burn through his nostrils. _The Falcon_ was strangely quiet in the wake of Simon's dramatic departure. The lights of the ship's computers continued to blink and whirr in silent communication, while outside in the hangar, Han could vaguely make out the sounds of other pilots and droids attending to their own space vehicles. It was deceptively calm, but Han could sense a post-scene tension that caused an almost audible buzz to permeate the air. //It's only the calm before sand storm....// The smuggler straightened at the thought. He didn't know where that had come from. Maybe he was only dreading the impending scene with Leia. He knew she was angry; most of it probably justified, but his smuggler's intuition told him it was something more than that. Something bigger. Maybe relating to that ominous warning that Luke had given him earlier. //Or maybe not.// Han tried to reassure himself with a private grin, //maybe you really are just a guy dreading having his girlfriend yell at him.//

But he wasn't convinced. 

Han ran a hand along a control panel, but even the familar comfort usually offered by his ship was not able to distract his thoughts from returning to the confrontation with Simon. His mind flashed to the sneer that had distorted the politician's face. The man's caustic words to Leia suddenly reverberating through his mind. //And that cold expression.// That fleeting look that had passed over Simon's face. The one that had caused Han's stomach to momentarily lurch. Even now, it gave him the creeps. But he was being ridiculous. The carbon freeze had softened his brain. With a simple flick of the switch and he had turned from a hardened and street-smart space pirate into a jittery and delusional mess. //Or maybe you're smarter now, Solo. Maybe you've suddenly learned that it's harder to gamble when you have so much to lose....//

Han shook his head in annoyance, as if trying to physically dislodge the unpleasant thoughts from his brain. There was no point in dwelling on this. Besides, if they could get past an obstacle like Darth Vader, then a snivelling little Kowakian mokey-lizard like Simon wouldn't be any problem at all. They could deal with him. 

The smuggler turned his thoughts back towards the ship. //The hyperdrive's busted again. Chewie's going to need some help with that. Maybe if we adjusted the...// But his thought faded out mid-sentence, only to be replaced with the words of Leia's husband. _You think this is over? it's not over..._ Han felt his jaw clench. Even now, the words had enough resonance to ignite a flame of anger within him. That man had tried to hurt Leia, and now Han wished that Simon was back here once more. He wanted to hit him all over again. And again. And again. He wanted to knock him down for every scathing word he had ever thrown at the princess. Han wanted pummel him for any moment of sadness he might have caused her. 

As if landing Simon in the hospital could make up for seven years of absence. Han smirked to himself. //Well, it might be a good start...//

Immediately his thoughts sobered as his eyes caught on the hall that led to his cabin. Leia was there with Bailey now. Comforting him. Trying to assure the little boy that everything was all right. Han swallowed. //Probably trying to reassure him about _me_.// That last thought caused a cold stab of panic to lace through him. Suddenly all the smug fantasies of smearing Simon all over the control panels flew from his mind. His seething anger was quickly swept aside and replaced with a tightening remorse. 

Han blew out a haggard sigh. Maybe he shouldn't have punched Simon like that. Maybe he had acted without thinking, but what was he supposed to have done? He had thought Simon was going to hurt the princess, hadn't he? But even now, Han wasn't so sure. Maybe he had just seen his opportunity to finally strike the man and so he had taken it. And if he were to be perfectly honest, it had felt good hitting him. _Real_ good. Han almost smiled at the memory of Simon hitting the deck, but then another image of Bailey flashed through his mind and he stopped himself. He had promised Leia he was ready to be a father. That he was prepared for the responsibility of it and now here had gone and probably blown it within the first hour. She was probably reconsidering the situation at that very moment. 

Han smacked his fist against the bulkhead in frustration and then to bit back a startled curse as a stinging pain shot up his arm. His hand was sore and discolored from connecting with Simon's jaw and now he had just further aggravated it. Han stifled a string of obscenities and shook out his fist in pained annoyance. 

"You know, you're never going let that hand heal if you keep punching everything in sight."

Han turned with a start. He hadn't heard Leia come back in and it surprised him to be caught off guard like that. The smuggler tried to mask his surprise with a casual grin, but it felt strained. "Ah, I know, but it's nothing. Doesn't even hurt, really." He took a tentative step towards her and his tone softened. "How's Bailey?"

Leia sighed, her body still framed in the entrance from the hall. "He'll be all right. He's just a little shook up right now."

"Where is he?"

"In your cabin, sleeping." Her expression was impossible to read, "I think all the excitement this morning wore him out."

Han nodded in silent understanding, his brain already skipping ahead in search for the right thing to say. "Listen, I--" but the words died in his throat. He wanted to apologize, but he didn't even know where to start. Heck, he didn't even know if he was really sorry. Simon had it coming. He had _deserved_ it. //But she's probably looking for an apology, so just give her what she wants.....// Han ran an anxious hand through his air, trying not to betray a hint of the nervousness he felt. "Leia," he said softly, trying for a new approach, "about before..."

Leia crossed her arms and stared pointedly at the floor. "I really wish you hadn't done that, Han."

"I know."

"Especially infront of our impressionable six year old son." 

Han nodded and blew out resigned sigh. "I know."

Leia finally met his gaze, "he looks up to you." 

Han looked away. He had expected the princess to come storming in here, ready to loudly harangue him for what had happened earlier. He had been prepared for that, but he found this quiet reproach to be infinitely worse. Having Leia angry at him was one thing. Having her _disappointed_ was quite another. "I know. I-" he hesitated, "I wasn't thinking. Everything just happened so fast, I didn't have time to think."

Leia nodded thoughtfully, as if considering this argument. "Well, I hope that in the future," she said, her voice even, "you will find the time to think before acting. Especially, when acting out while a small child looks on."

Han winced. //Ouch.// On one level, he knew that she was right. He shouldn't have done what he had done. But on quite another, he found himself completely justified and he felt the need to defend his actions. "Listen," he said, taking a step towards her, a palm raised defensively. "You're right. Maybe I overreact a bit, but let me explain-"

"Maybe you overreacted? _Maybe_?" Leia's brow rose incredulously, "you charged at an unarmed man with your fists flying." Suddenly, it was as if her argument had been injected with a much needed shot of adrenaline. Her voice began to rise. "You broke my husband's jaw while Bailey was standing right there!. What kind of example is that?"

Han felt his hackles rise at her use of the word 'husband' and was instantly put on the defensive. "Now hold on, princess," he replied, taking another stop in her direction. He felt his own voice get louder, but couldn't control it. "First off, I didn't _break_ his jaw--"

Leia gave him a pointed glare. "Close enough."

"Second," he continued, stubbornly, "I was only doing what I thought I had to do. I didn't think because there was no time _to_ think. I saw him grabbing you like that and I had to make my move."

Leia shook her head indignantly. "That's ridiculous, Simon would never hurt me."

Han's brow raised, his expression incredulous. "How can you say that? Was I the only one standing here??"

The princess pursed her lips together slightly and reconsidered her words. "I meant Simon would never _hit_ me," she amended.

"Oh, well..." Han let his eyes stray to the scuffed toes of his spacer boots, and shrugged his shoulders in irritation. "I couldn't know that. And I couldn't take the chance that he would." 

"Well, you should've," Leia replied abruptly, not even sure if she meant it.

Han shot her a disbelieving look, "I could never stand by and let anyone hurt you, Leia." He was almost annoyed that she could even suggest such a thing. "Ever."

Her expression softened at his words and she found herself looking away, suddenly apologetic for having yelled at him. "I know," she replied softly.

"And I'd do it again, if it meant keeping you safe."

Leia gave him a hard look, clearly disapproving of his last remark. Then she just let out a deep sigh, as if attempting to blow her exhaustion out between her two lips. The truth was, she didn't want to be mad at Han. She couldn't be. Not when she was still so grateful to have him here with her at all. And not when he had done nothing more than what Leia had actually wanted to do herself. A part of her couldn't deny the perverse pleasure she had felt at seeing her smug husband hitting the deckplates. The image almost brought a smile to her lips, even now.

Han noticed the dark cloud seemingly passing from her features and felt a dull hope flare up in him again. "What?" He asked, his voice guardedly optimistic. "What's so funny?"

Leia shook her head, stifling a sudden smile. She was almost too ashamed to share this thought with him. She really should still be mad, yet, found it strangely impossible. "To be honest with you, Han, I'm really not sure what I'm more angry about, the fact that you hit Simon, or--" Leia hesitated.

Han cocked a curious eyebrow, "or what?"

"Or the fact that you didn't hit him harder." Leia covered her mouth at the admission, and once again shook her head in disbelief of her own honesty. "Isn't that awful?"

Han shrugged, unable to suppress a pleased quirk from taking over his mouth. "Nah, it sounds understandable to me."

"I shouldn't admit that, though."

"Why not?" Han went right up to the princess now, his confidence renewed with every step he took. He placed his warm hands on her shoulders, "it's the truth, isn't it?"

Leia smiled faintly, her gaze focused at his chest. The smuggler felt her shoulders lightly convulse as she let out a small chuckle. "He's so vain, Han." She blurted, her head shaking in amusement, "if he seemed mad when he left here, I can only imagine how upset he'll be tomorrow when he looks in a mirror."

Han's grin broadened, "well, I could always go find him and hit him with my left hook. That might even out his appearance."

Leia was leaning into him now, her laughter coming more freely. "He might actually appreciate that. I'm not kidding, he makes _Lando Calrissian_ look modest."

"Nooo, I don't believe it," Han said, finding her laughter contagious. Although, it was more out of relief for seeing her smile than from actually getting the joke. 

"He spends more time getting ready to go out than I do. And poor Threepio," she snorted, "he makes that poor droid give him pedicures at least once a month..." She wiped a tear of amusement from her eye, "he props his feet up on the pillows and Threepio...it's ridiculous....!"

Han chuckled, his hand reaching up to curl a strand of hair behind her ear. "Wow," he said, his head shaking in disbelief, "how'd you end up with this guy again?"

"I-.." Leia paused to catch her breath, and her expression slowly sobered. She seemed to seriously consider the question for a moment. Han was partly kidding, but there was no denying the sincere curiosity that hung behind his words. Her gaze strayed back to his chest and she shrugged her shoulders meekly. "I don't know," she finally replied, "he was charming. Nice. I needed that." Leia paused, and then her words came out in a rush, "You have to understand, that after you--after what...." Her voice faltered, as if she were suddenly caught on the right words to use.

Han was silent, his hand still resting at the side of her face. He didn't know how much of an answer he really wanted to hear, but he was hesitant to interrupt her for some reason.

"After Bespin," she continued, her eyes still reluctant to meet his intense gaze. "That was a very difficult time for me. One of the worst. And there was Bailey to take care of and--I-I thought Simon might help. I thought he would be good for us. All of us." She let out a shaky sigh. "I don't know," she admitted, her voice suddenly filled with regret. "I guess I was just really lonely."

Han nodded in understanding and pulled her to him, his arms wrapping around her tightly, his chin resting on top of her head. "I'm sorry," he breathed, almost without thinking. He didn't know why, but he felt guilty. Like he should have broken his way out of the carbonite sooner or changed the course of history. "About everything," he continued, his voice suddenly gaining momentum. "I'm sorry I missed out on being there, I'm sorry you had to turn to someone else. I'm sorry for even trusting Lando in the first place." He stepped back a second, finally catching her gaze in his own. His voice softened, "and I'm really sorry for lashing out infront of Bailey. It won't happen again."

Leia nodded, a grateful turn in her mouth. "I know."

Han smiled and tenderly traced his finger along her jawline. "Everything is going to be all right, now. You know that, right? Whatever happens next, we'll work it out."

Leia matched his smile, the shine returning to her eyes. "I know."

Han leaned towards her, his mouth turning up in a familiar confident grin. "Does this mean you forgive me?" His lips were hovering just above hers, his breath warm against her skin.

There was a teasing note in her voice. "Maybe."

"Maybe?" His brow rose in disbelief, "*maybe*? Princess, I know I can do better than 'maybe'.." 

His mouth closed over hers, the warm pressure of his lips on hers enough to cause a delicious rush of contentment to course through her. It was both startling new and wonderfully familiar at the same time. It was as if every kiss brought her back seven years, but it also sparked a whole new anticipation for the future. Suddenly, Leia wanted tomorrow to come. She looked foward to what was in store with an enthusiasm she couldn't remember ever feeling before. Not even the first time they were together, all those years ago. Back then, there was still the war hanging over them. Now, all their battles had been fought and their victories won. Even Simon suddenly seemed insignificant. They would deal with him. 

Han gently pulled away and gave her a small smile. "How am I doing, now?"

She smiled impishly. "You're forgiven." Her hand reached up to pull him towards her again, when her eye caught his and she paused, her expresssion suddenly concerned. "Han, are you sure you're okay?"

"Are you kidding? I'm feeling pretty incredible right now." He gave her a sheepish smile, "maybe a little too incredible." He moved to lean in again, but Leia held him firm to his spot. 

"I'm serious, I--" She faltered a moment, her eyes now openly combing his expression. "The carbonite. We never talked about it."

Han fidgeted, his head turning away in discomfort. "What? Where is this coming from all of a sudden?" 

"I don't know, I just thought..." She rested a hand tenderly against his cheek, forcing him to once again meet her gaze. "Do you remember it? What was it like?"

Han shrugged. "I already told you--I don't remember." There was a forced casualness to his tone.

"Not anything?"

"No. Not a thing." He was looking past her now, his gaze set some where above her head. "It was like one second I was on Bespin, looking up at you and Chewie...and the next, I was waking up blind on Lando's ship."

Leia's voice rung with alarm, "you were blind?"

He tried a small reassuring smile, "ah, not for long. It wasn't a big deal."

"You're just saying that," she replied softly.

"Maybe," there was a brief knowing gleam in his eye, but then it passed. "Really, it was nothing." His voice turned serious. "The whole carbonite thing? I don't remember it. In and out, like an instant." He snapped his fingers as if to illustrate his point, and continued, "even the hybernation sickness wasn't that bad. It was--" Han swallowed, his expression suddenly betraying a trace of vulnerability, "it's the time I missed that still kinda hurts, but that's all." He forced a grin, but it fell short of convincing.

Leia wanted to hug him fiercely. //'That's all'? Why did he have to pretend to take everything in stride?// She didn't know what to say, so she gave him a brave smile and replied, "at least you're here now."

Han nodded absently, his gaze once again growing distant. His mind was still lost back on Bespin. "I still remember our last moments together," he said suddenly, after a moment of silence. "You and me. And Chewie. He was all upset and tried to put up that last fight. Remember that?" He didn't wait for her to respond, "I had to calm him down." He looked at her again. "And you--" he shook his head, his voice suddenly filled with an appreciative awe, "you were so brave, Leia."

"No, I wasn't," she said, shaking her head in denial. "Are you kidding? It took every ounce of my strength not to break down right there."

"Well, it looked good to me." Han's eyes were on her again. "It made me stronger just looking at you."

Leia was almost caught off guard by his admission, it was unlike Han Solo to admit to any sort of weakness. Her hand was resting on his upper arm, and she gave him a reassuring squeeze, "you _are_ strong," she argued.

"I know," his mouth turned up into that familar cocky grin, "but I was just facing carbonite, what's that? That's nothing." The smuggler shook his head, his expression sobering. "But meanwhile I was leaving you and Chewie to Vader, and that was worse." 

Leia stiffened slightly. There was no denying the loathing in Han's voice as he mentioned the dark lord. Feeling a sudden irrational rush of guilt, the princess averted her gaze. //He doesn't know.// She had almost forgotten.

"I'm just glad you got away at Cloud City, if Vader had gotten his hands on you again..."

Leia said nothing.

"I still hate him," Han continued, his voice growing harder. "I almost wish that sith spawn was still alive, so I could kill him myself." Han stopped abruptly as he saw Leia turn away, her face tighening. "Hey listen," he added quickly, misinterpreting her ashen expression. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to bring back all those horrible memories...." 

Leia nodded numbly, her gaze distant. "I know," she replied in a strangled whisper.

Han ran a reassuring hand up and down her arm, his voice apologetic, "I shouldn't have brought up, Vader. That was stupid." He offered her a confident smile, "but you have nothing to worry about, you told me yourself, the man's dead. He can't hurt us anymore."

Leia's stomach lurched at the smuggler's words. //Oh, he can't? If you only knew....// She looked up at the smuggler, her eyes widening nervously. She should tell him. Tell him now. Get it out in the open. He had a right to know, didn't he? "Han, I--" but her voice faltered. It was as if her throat had tightened around the words and stubbornly refused to let them out.

Han looked down at her, concern clouding his eyes. "Hey, Princess," he prodded softly, "what's wrong?"

But Leia didn't answer him. Her mouth just opened and closed silently as she struggled to push the sentence out. //Vader's my father.// It was just three words, how hard could it be to say? //Vader's my father. Vader's my father.// "I should tell you something," she finally managed in a weak voice.

Han's eyebrows rose at this, alarms suddenly going off in the back of his mind. Leia suddenly looked so nervous. So pale. He was almost afraid to ask. "Tell me what?"

Leia swallowed, her blood now seeming to race past her ears. He might hate her. No, Han would never hate her. But he might be disgusted. //'Sith spawn' indeed.// After all, that's exactly what she was. And what would this mean for Bailey? //It won't mean anything,// she silently argued, //Han will understand. Just tell him.//

The smuggler could feel his stomach tighten nervously, and he tried to lighten the mood. "Come on, Leia. What's wrong?" He tried a small smile, "I've never known you to be speechless before."

The expression on her face relaxed slightly, but her eyes still seemed almost haunted. "It's going to be hard for you to hear," she warned, her voice almost quivering. Leia let out a small sigh. "But it's probably even harder for me to tell you."

Han swallowed. //No, this was definitely not good at all.// "Come on, sweetheart," he said softly. "You can tell me anything. You know that." A look of panic suddenly crossed his features. "You didn't forget to tell me something about Bespin, did you? You told me you escaped almost right away, they didn't--"

"No, it's nothing like that," she assured him.

"Oh," he said, visibly relieved. "Then what is it?"

Leia's gaze flicked up to his face, and catching his tender expression, she felt her resolve strengthen. "It's...." she hesitated, the tension almost causing her ears to ring. 

"It's about my father," she finally breathed.

********


	26. Chapter Twentysix

Leia's words seemed to hang in the air, and it took Han a moment to even register what she had said. "Your father?" He was confused, "What about him?"

The princess sucked in a breath. There was something about her stricken expression that made his blood run cold. "Well, it's complicated," she managed, "and it may be hard for you to...to take."

Han forced another smile, but this time he found it even harder to make it convincing. "Ah, come on, Princess." He made an effort to keep his tone light, but it was betrayed by the slight tremor in his voice. "After the last couple of days, I think I can handle anything."

Leia gave him a steady look, and every breath seemed deliberate. "Maybe we should sit down."

Han shook his head, all pretense dissolving. "Just tell me." He felt his guard rising. What could be so bad about her father that she would need him to sit down? Bail Organa was a fine leader, and by all accounts, a good man. //Why does she suddenly look so scared?//

"Really," she insisted, "I think we should sit. This is going to come as a bit of a shock for you and..." Leia's gaze flickered for a moment before she continued, "and it involves Luke, too."

//Luke?// Now, Han was *real* nervous. Just what had he missed when he was away? He managed to keep his voice calm, "Luke?" He swallowed, "what about him?"

Leia reached out and to grasp his hand, a small encouraging smile almost straining her lips. "There's something you should know about us." 

_Us._

The smuggler almost stopped breathing. And he had to consciously halt the barrage of horrific fantasies that threatened to take over his mind. He and Leia had been over this. She had told him that nothing had gone on with Luke. And he believed her. //Then why are you so nervous?// 

Han gazed meaningfully at the princess, as if through his eyes, he could share his strength. Prove that he was not afraid of what she might tell him. While in reality, he was torn between wanting Leia to hurry up and answer his questions, and begging her not to go any further. Finally he asked softly, "what do I need to know?" His brow furrowed slightly as a thought suddenly occurred to him, "and what could Luke possibly have to do with Bail Organa?"

Leia winced lightly. "No," she replied carefully, "not with Bail."

Han opened his mouth to respond, but then let it snap shut. "Oh," he mumbled softly. He knew the princess was adopted, she had told him as much during the flight to Cloud City. But Han still didn't understand what could possibly be so horrible that she would be afraid to tell *him*. Leia shouldn't be afraid to tell him anything. He cleared his throat. "Well," he finally asked, "what about him?"

Leia opened her mouth to answer, her eyes straying to the floor in a vain attempt to search for answers. "I suppose I should start back on Bespin ..." But at the sound of steps shuffling up the boarding ramp, her mouth snapped shut. The princess' shoulders sagged in visible relief. She was being awarded a reprieve. 

Han, however, was frustrated by their interruption, and he tensed. He was not in the mood for another bitter confrontation with Simon. His jaw tightened. He was just about to grumble something to the princess about how they should've sealed the ramp, but his complaints were silenced when the form took shape in the entranceway. Leia watched as Han's expression lightened noticeably as he took in the familar figure. The tension seemed to burst from his body in the form of an excited gasp, "Chewie!"

****

Chewbacca froze at the top of the ramp, and Lando had to dig in his heels to keep from plowing straight into the wookiee's back. The gambler placed a hand lightly on his friend's shoulder, as if to prod him foward, but Chewie stood where he was. It was as if the air had momentarily escaped the large wookiee's lungs.

Lando could hear the enthusiastic greeting from Solo that rang from inside the ship, and there was only one more moment of silence before Chewbacca snapped out of his marvelling stupor and into action. The wookiee strode towards his long lost friend at lightning speed, his speech so rapid and bubbling with excitement, that even Lando had trouble understanding him. 

Han didn't even try to fight the goofy grin that was taking over his face. "I've been looking all over for you, pal. Where have ya been hiding?"

Chewie let out an incredulous roar as he swooped up the smuggler in a rib cracking hug. 

Han felt his boots leave the floor, and let out a startled 'oof!' as the wookiee's ferocious embrace tighened in enthusiasm. "Ow, okay, Chewie. I'm thrilled to see you, too, but if you don't ease up I'll be spending the rest of the afternoon in the med center."

The wookiee released the smuggler and stepped away, a sheepish expression on his face. 

Han shook him off with a wave of his hand. "Aww, don't get all motherly on me, Chewie. I'm fine, I didn't mean it like that."

Lando beamed from his position at Chewbacca's shoulder. "You'll have to forgive Chewie, Han. Ever since I told him what happened, he's been jumping out of his skin trying to track you down."

The princess, who had been watching the wookiee with amusement, seemed to turn with a start at the sound of his voice. Calrissian offered her a guarded smile, pretending not to notice when her expression faltered slightly. He turned towards the smuggler, his grin broadening as he took in the sudden rumpled appearance of his friend. "Well, buddy, you've certainly seen better days."

Han smiled ruefully, "you don't know the half of it."

Leia placed a knowing hand on the smuggler's shoulder, momentarily forgetting her slight discomfort at Lando's appearance. She opened her mouth to say something, but was suddenly thrown off guard when an excited wookiee decided to lavish some of his pent up enthusiasm on her. She let out a startled laugh as Chewbacca wrapped a massive arm around her, and gave her a hearty swing. 

Chewie set a glowing princess back on her feet. "It's a miracle," Leia agreed, , "I don't think anyone can really believe it." She surprised the gambler by suddenly turning on him an offering him a smile. This one heartfelt. "And thank you, Lando." She reached out to give his hand a friendly squeeze. "Han told me the part you played in all this. We are eternally grateful."

Calrissian felt an enormous weight lift off him at her words. It was like suddenly being released from a vice that had been pressing down on him for seven years. The relief was immeasurable. He returned the princess' smile in kind. "It was my pleasure," he answered sincerely, before allowing Leia to drop his hand.

"All right, all right," Han anounced loudly, clearly trying to break the mood. "Let's not get all mushy here."

Leia leaned into the smuggler's shoulder and gave him a wry smile. "Yes, gods forbid we do that, huh, Han?"

"Well?" Han said almost defensively, "this should be more like a party than a funeral service." He wrapped an arm around Leia's shoulder and turned to the others for support. "Am I right?"

The wookiee whuffed in agreement and Lando nodded eagerly. "Absolutely."

Leia rolled her eyes good naturedly, "men."

"Well, since we're all in agreement," Han continued, giving Chewbacca a knowing grin. "Tell me you still keep whiskey stowed in the usual place and you'll make my afternoon."

"Han," Leia admonished, "it's barely lunch time."

The smuggler raised his brow in his best impression of feigned innocence. "What? I'm not saying we should get drunk," he looked to Lando and Chewie, as if they would at least see his reasoning. "I'm just suggesting we have a few drinks with our friends, and I could be filled in on *their* version of the past seven years."

Lando cocked an eyebrow at this. "You're sure you want to count me in that group, Han?"

Solo shot him a baffled look, clearly forgetting what he had just said. "What group?"

"Your friends."

"Aww, will you get over that," Han said dismissively, eager to not allow anything put a damper on the rapidly improving morning. "You got me out of there, didn't you? I'd say that's at least worth a drink." The smuggler slid into a seat at the holochess table and motioned for Calrissian to join him. Lando grinned in understanding and took a seat across from him. "Besides," he added ruefully, "I promised I'd start playing nice with others."

Leia gave the smuggler an appreciative look, and Lando had to suppress a chuckle. "Don't tell me," he replied with a knowing smirk, "you're trying to act respectable."

Han's mouth curled up in a small grin, "yeah, something like that." He turned to the princess, and noted that she was still standing. "Aren't you joining us?"

"I should check on Bailey."

"Oh," He seemed to consider this a moment, "should I go with you?" Han began to stand up, but Leia placed a hand on his shoulder to stop him.

"No, it's all right." She gave it a light squeeze, "You stay and begin to catch up. I'll be right back."

She offered the Han a brief tender smile and turned towards the back cabin, leaving the enamored smuggler in her wake. Their earlier unfinished conversation suddenly seeming a million miles removed from his mind. 

Han turned back to Lando, unable to mask the expression of adoration that still colored his features. "Wow..."

Chewie shuffled to the table, the bottle in his right hand proving that the hunt had been successful. The pilot continued to shake his head thoughtfully, as the wookiee placed the bottle on the table. Han didn't even seem to see it. "I don't know, life's funny," he said wistfully, "one second you're a third class smuggler, dodging Imps on the outer rim, and the next..." he made a vague motion with his hand, "and the next thing you know, you got all this."

Chewbacca nodded, he agreed. 

Lando scratched his beard uncomfortablly, suddenly feeling slightly out of place. Maybe he was jealous. He was beyond thrilled to have Han back, that was true, but he had pretty much made a mess of everything else the past few years. He wasn't feeling very fortunate. Lando cleared his throat awkwardly and forced a grin onto his features. "How 'bout one of those drinks now," he said in his best jovial voice.

Han looked over at him with a start, as if suddenly remembering himself. "Oh, right," he said, clearing his throat as he lined up some glasses. 

Calrissian studied Han's expression for a moment, still almost unable to comprehend the look of complete tenderness that had taken over it a few moments earlier. He had always imagined Han capable of it, but it was another thing to actually see it happen. //Yup, life *is* funny....// "Who would've thought it," he couldn't resist observing out loud, "Han Solo, turned softie."

The smuggler seemed almost offended at the suggestion, "No, I havent." He answered stubbornly.

Chewbacca whuffed in amusement as he began filling the glasses, and Han motioned him with his hand. "Better only make mine a half though, Chewie."

Lando chuckled and shook his head knowingly. Han was instantly defensive, "hey, it *is* early, you know..."

"Uh, huh." The gambler's grin was almost blinding now.

"Ah, forget you." He waved his hand dismissively and leaned back in his seat. "So, who wants to go first?" He asked, grabbing the glass that was set infront of him. "I already heard Leia's story, so now I want to hear one of yours." Han gave them a knowing smirk, "And one of you better start talking," he said good naturedly, "because I guarantee, when it comes to the last seven years, your stories are going to be a lot more interesting than mine."

*****


	27. Chapter Twentyseven

The ship was stifling hot. And the air was almost too thick to breathe. For some unfathomable reason, Malcolm had shut down everything in the cruiser, except for the life supports. And that included keeping the heat turned up to the temperature of two blazing Tatooine suns. It was almost unmanageable. 

Xavier wiped a line of sweat from his forehead, and glanced over at the sealed cockpit. On the otherside of that thick metal door, sat his brooding partner. No doubt still disturbed over the amazing burden Simon had tossed into his lap. It had been almost a week since Xavier had confronted Malcolm about his plans for Solo and the boy. And since then: silence. The older man had resigned himself to spending his days locked in the cockpit, staring out the viewport into a dreary hangar, as if he were forcing his conscience to come to grips with what he would eventually have to do. And knowing Malcolm, it would probably be a pointess effort. Yet in there he sat, waiting patiently for Simon to give him the word.

Xavier blew out a weary sigh. The ship was too dark. The only illumination came from the several control panels that lined the room. These lights blinked and beeped and caused distorted shadows to be cast across the ship. It was a bleak atmosphere, and only added to the pit of isolation that was welling within the young man's gut. His only reprieve were the infrequent visits from General Calrissian. The gambler seemed remarkably patient with Malcolm, considering the older man had practically commandeered his own ship, but he also seemed a bit wary of him, too. Atleast he always offered to take the young man out for a little while. That was nice. Xavier supposed the gambler felt sorry for him. He could understand that, though. And perhaps Calrissian was more than a little scared of his boss. These days, that was certainly understandable, too. 

Xavier leaned back in his seat, and tried to ignore the way the leather cushion clung to his back. The young man was troubled. He was unsure about what to do. Should he warn Solo and the princess? But that might get Malcolm in trouble, or that might get *him* in trouble. What if they thought he was crazy? But what about the safety of Solo and the kid? Wouldn't that be more important? At the very least, his warning would put them on the alert. It might help, even if they *did* think he was deranged. And he couldn't sit around and do *nothing*....

Xavier was jarred out of his reverie by the loud buzz of the ship's comlink. It pierced through the air, and the young man could hear the startled fumbling of Malcolm coming from the cockpit. Apparently, he had been caught off guard, too. There was a muffled curse of frustration as the transmittor continued it's incessent drone. Suddenly, the cockpit wooshed open, and Malcolm came stumbling out, his expression wild eyed and urgent. "Damn comlink," he grumbled, "it's all acting funny in the cockpit, now."

Xavier fleetingly wondered whether Threepio had inadvertantly cooked the wiring, but the loud slap of Malcolm's palm activating the comlink snapped him back to attention. Apparently, since last week's confrontation, the older man was no longer concerned with maintaining his secrecy. He gave Xavier a brief glare of warning, and then addressed the transmittor. "Yeah, what is it?"

Simon's voice came through the speakers scratchy and his words were garbled. He was frantic. Earlier that week, his wife had stopped by the apartment to pick up a few things. Clothes. Toys for Bailey. And Simon was convinced it clearly represented another ploy to insinuate Solo between him and the boy. He was outraged. 

"Atleast it looks like she's leaving you the apartment," Malcolm offered weakly. "Good ones are so hard to find."

Simon was not amused. "So is a decent wife," he spat back. "Whatever happened to trust and common decency?!" Then he went on another tirade about how ingrateful the princess was, how he had always suspected she was a 'stuck up bitch', and now all this confirmed it for him. The man didn't seem to make much sense to Xavier, but as his ramblings continued, his message became clear: Simon was ready. Everything was in place.

_Today. It will all happen today._

*****

Bailey sat on the boarding ramp of the falcon, his feet swinging lazily over the side. Around him the hangar buzzed with bustling activity, and the sounds of warming engines permeated the air. Pilots and mechanics filed back and forth with a purpose. They barked orders at droids, or demanded the whereabouts of a missing part. Others had their faces buried in engine panels, or were kicking their ships in frustration, spewing colorful language as they did so--that same kind of language his daddy had warned he might hear a lot around the hangar, but that he should never- _ever_-repeat it. The atmosphere was almost electric, and it excited the little boy. 

Bailey liked to sit from his place at the boarding ramp and watch everything unfold infront of him. Everything was so busy. Everyone had a job to do. People moved like they were in charge of something. It was really neat. And now he felt like he was one of them. After spending the last several days living out of the falcon, Bailey had become a familar sight at the hangar. Familar enough, that many of the pilots would actually stop and acknowledge him now. They'd pause in their rush, just long enough to wave or give him a friendly nod. One of the pilots, Bailey was pretty sure his name was Parker, would even occasionally flip him a chocolate as he passed. And that was _really_ neat.

Then there were the others, who would come over to talk with his father. They would pump his hand enthusiastically, and give him slaps on the back as if they were old friends. Some had actually known his dad once. In the Rebellion. Or some time before that. Most only heard of him though. It was funny. They would walk up to the pilot all wide-eyed and awe-struck. Fumbling around nervously, like his dad was a famous smashball star or Space Racer himself. They asked him questions about the kessel run or the death star. Others just wanted piloting advice, or some help working on their ships. Everyone seemed to like his dad. 

Bailey picked up the chocolate that Parker The Pilot had tossed into his lap earlier. He peeled at the foil clumsily, and listened as his father talked to the latest of his adoring visitors. He was explaining patiently why one piloting maneuver would work well in one situation, and not well in another. His daddy knew all kinds of stuff like that. He was really smart.

Bailey finally had the treat unwrapped, and popped it into his mouth. He watched as his father made excited motions with his hands and described a near-miss with the falcon. The boy had heard his dad grumble to Chewie once that with all the pilots trying to talk to him or get him to help with their ships, that he would never get the hyperdrive fixed. But Bailey could tell that he actually enjoyed talking to the visitors. His dad liked showing them what he knew, he enjoyed pointing out all the special _modifixations_ on the falcon. 

The visitor nodded in understanding as Han finished up his story. "Of course, that's really only one way to do it, but it's always worked for me." He grinned as the visitor agreed that it indeed sounded like a good approach, and then the smuggler's eyes caught on the little boy. "Hey kiddo," he called suddenly, "are you okay over there?"

Bailey nodded amicably, "uh-huh."

Han nodded and nudged the man beside him, "that's my son."

The visitor turned to the boy, his face lighting up. "That right? You got a kid?" He threw Bailey a half smile, "so whattya say, kid? You gonna be a pilot like your old man?"

Bailey tucked the chocolate to the inside of his cheek and made a face. "My dad's not old." 

The visitor seemed to find this very funny, and Han gave the boy a wink. "See?" He boasted proudly, "he's a sharp one, too!"

Bailey beamed at his approval, and kicked his feet back and forth happily. The visitor gave the boy one last grin and then turned back to his father. He thanked him again for his help. Han told him it was 'no problem', and slapped the man on the shoulder as he bid him good-bye. Then he nodded his chin in the boy's direction, and strode towards him. "So what are you thinking, pal? You hungry?"

Bailey shrugged, and finally let the chocolate slide down his throat. "I dunno."

Han suddenly looked regretful. "You must be bored though, huh?"

He shook his head. "I'm not bored," he answered sincerely.

His dad smiled, seemingly relieved at his answer. "Well, that's good." He replied, "but maybe we'll do something fun when your mom gets back from work. Would you like that?"

Bailey nodded eagerly. 

Han cocked an eyebrow. "You like animals? You wanna go to the zoo or something?"

Bailey's eyes lit up at this, and his nod became more enthused. "Can we visit the dewbacks?"

"Yeah, sure."

"Can we get one of those really long popsicles with fifteen flavors?"

Han's smile broadened, finding the boy's enthusiasm contageous. "I don't see why not."

"How 'bout the jungle ride? Can we go on the jungle ride?" Bailey was practically bouncing in his seat now.

"Sure, if we have time...." His dad turned to let the boy climb onto his back. "But first, whattya say we fetch Chewie from the engine pit, and grab some lunch? And after we eat, you can help us finally fix that hyperdrive. Sound good?"

Bailey nodded in agreement, and he tightened his hold around Han's neck. "Can I fly the falcon after lunch, too?"

"Well...." 

"Then can I at least have a purple soda with lunch?"

Han grinned, "now _that_ I can arrange."

********


	28. Chapter Twentyeight

Leia stared blankly at the forms that sat before her. Her brain suddenly unable to focus on the words that made up the entire page. Her thoughts seemed to whirring at such a speed, that it was nearly impossible to hold onto one for too long. 

The young officer stood awkwardly before her desk, and coughed politely into his hand. "Is everything all right, Princess?"

Leia glanced up quickly, her tone distracted, "what?"

"Mon Mothma understands you've had a.." the man paused for a moment, as if searching for the right word. "Well, that you've had a very _hectic_ week. She wanted me to tell you, that she understood if you needed a little more time with everything."

The princess nodded in understanding. "Right." Normally, she would have been insulted at Mon Mothma implying that she wasn't capable of doing her job, but today all she could manage was a smile. "It's fine, I can handle it."

"No need to rush it."

"It won't be rushed--" Leia smoothed out the sheet in front of her, as if to demonstrate her competence, "but it will be completed. And on time. Thank you."

The officer cleared his throat meaningfully, his disapproval evident. "Very well," he replied, in a clipped voice. "I'll tell her you'll have those in as scheduled." The man then turned on his heal and walked out of her office.

Leia watched the doors shut soundlessly behind him, and had to smile wryly to herself. Her 'hectic' week? Is that how it was being referred to around the building? _Have you heard the latest about Princess Leia and her 'hectic' life?_ She imagined herself as the new hot-topic between political meetings. _Oh, yes! Her life took the most 'hectic' and unexpected turn last week...._

Leia's expression softened. Not that she was complaining. Given the choice between her neatly organized and categorized life of a month ago, or the chaotic nature of this past week, she'd choose the latter everytime. Complete with it's wonderful moments and the confusing complications that came with it.

Everything on the one hand was so wonderful; Han was back.--Leia smiled wistfully at that last thought. _Han was back._--That alone, was enough to fill her with a rush. But there had also been all that ugliness with Simon, the sudden move to a new place, and the stress wondering how hard her husband was going to make this separation for her. And knowing Simon, he could make it very difficult indeed.

Leia sighed and shook her head. 

However, the good stuff still out weighed the bad. And even Simon couldn't tarnish the shine on what had been an incredible week. The princess felt her mouth curl up in a smile as she thought back on the past several days. 

They were all staying in the falcon. In a strange way, it reminded her of when they had been flying to Bespin all those years ago. Only different. Of course, they weren't on the run from the Empire this time. Actually, the Falcon was almost barely running at all. And there was Bailey. Who, after that horrible incident between Han and Simon, had bounced back with a resiliency that surprised even her. Now, he seemed to be back to his usual energetic self, and looked at their stay in the falcon as some sort of exciting adventure. The ship might have been a bit cramped, but the small quarters were also a perfect opportunity for Han and Bailey to get more comfortable with eachother. 

Leia's smile broadened, as an image of Han trying to teach the boy sabacc came to mind. It was fascinating to watch them get to know eachother. Even the ill-fated card lesson had been something for her to behold. Han had tried repeatedly to go over the rules with Bailey. The patience he displayed with the child, was almost something she would have never expected from him. But teaching sabacc to a six year old who barely grasped addition, was not a wise idea. The boy seemed to disregard everything Han had painstakingly explained to him, and after every hand was dealt, Bailey would just throw his cards down and boldly declare himself the winner. After awhile, even Han, had to lean back and admit defeat. He had thrown up his arms and declared, "I don't know what I was thinking--here I was, trying to teach cards to the sabacc master."

And then there were those moments when it was just her and Han. The times when _they_ would get to know eachother again. It had all been pretty innocent at first. Sneaking moments alone in the cockpit, staying up late after the others had gone to bed to talk, excusing themselves for a quick walk. Even the sleeping arrangements had been innocent. Leia smiled wryly. No, there hadn't been a hot smoldering reunion that first night back on the falcon. The first several nights had actually seen her paired up with a drooling six year old, who had liked to keep his presence known by kicking her repeatedly throughout the night. The other morning, she had actually woken up to find his arm slung half-hazardly over her face. 

It wasn't that the princess hadn't wanted to be with Han. She had. She _really_ had. But yet, she had put him off. It had been a long time, she had reasoned to him, shouldn't they get reacquainted with eachother? Han had been amazingly open about the whole thing. At least he had pretended to be. The princess knew he had been eager to be with her again. She would catch it in a gaze that lingered too long, in the hungry way he kissed her. It had been obvious. But he had agreed immediately. And he had kept to his word. It was as if he had been quietly waiting for her to make the first move, keeping his distance, as he had watched for her to give off that subtle sign that finally said: _I'm ready._

And then last night, that moment had come. 

Leia felt her face warm at the memory, and she leaned back in her seat. The overwhelming work load long forgotten.

It had been late, Bailey had long gone to bed, and even Chewie had retired for the evening. But her and Han had stayed up, as had been their habit all week. There were so few precious moments of privacy to be found on the small freighter, and they found their best chance to be alone was always after the others had gone to bed. Leia had been curled up next to him, and they had talked until the late hours. When she had finally pulled herself away from him, and they had said good night, she had begun to realize how hard it was getting to deprive herself of this man which she loved. It began to seem like an overwhelming chore to part company, and she found herself dreading that part of the evening every night. And Leia had then realized, that she could no longer remember her reasoning for waiting. 

But she had returned to her own cabin anyway. Back in that darkened room, Bailey had sprawled himself across the entire bed, the sheets a tangled mess at his feet. Leia had given the child a half- hearted nudge to get him to move, but then had just let her arms fall limply to her side in defeat. She had sat herself down on the edge of the bed, and the light whistling of Bailey's heavy breathing had provided a rhythmic back drop to her pondering. Leia had known then what she really wanted. She had stood up again, straightened the sheet over her sleeping son, and then had quietly stepped from the room.

It had taken a little bit of courage for her to slip into Han's quarters. For some inexplicable reason, the princess had felt incredibly nervous. It had been such a long time for them, and she wondered if it might be different at first. Awkward. Or strange. But Han had still been awake, and when she slipped under the sheets, and pressed up against him, he had immediately responded by putting his arms around her. _Are you sure?_ He had whispered in the dark, as if to say, 'don't do this just for me.' Leia had simply nodded. She was sure. And as his embrace tightened around her and his mouth found hers, all her fears and insecurities--even those seven long years--had begun melting away. Every caress, every intimate gesture, had brought back a little more of what was lost, until Leia was so overwhelmed with love, she had barely been able to breathe. She had just pulled him closer, with the hope that he would feel it. And that he would know it.

_I love you, Leia._

Sitting at her desk, the princess felt her face warm at the memory. She had almost forgotten how wonderful it could be. 

A warm breeze suddenly blew through her opened window, and lightly rattling the panes of glass. The noise brought Leia out of her reverie, and suddenly her mind was abruptly pulled back to the present. Suddenly, the ticking of the chrono was unusually loud, and the once soft murmers that regularly came from outside her office, now surrounded her. 

Leia felt her stomach clench nervously. 

Maybe it was the way the air played across her face, or the light whispers of the papers ruffling on her desk, but suddenly the air in the room seemed different. Something felt distinctly *off*. It was as if the temperature had suddenly dropped dramatically, and even the warm memories of the night before had been chased from the room. Leia straightened in her seat with a start.

_Something was wrong._

She knew it with a sudden urgency. It was almost like she was neglecting something. Overlooking something crucial. Her eyes scanned her desk wildly, as if the answer would suddenly make itself known; it would pop out from behind a potted plant, or become untucked from the bottom of a pile of paperwork. But no answer presented itself.

Leia shook her head. //No, it wasn't work.// Her heart was pounding loudly in her ears now. A creeping panic was starting to take hold of her. //_]What, what, what, what..._// She asked herself over and over again, barely conscious that she was speaking out loud. Her gaze suddenly flew to the holocube of Bailey. The same one of him clutching the stuffed wookiee that she had stared at a thousand times before. But now she felt something catch in her throat.

_Bailey._

She was being ridiculous. Bailey was with Han and Chewie. He was fine. As if to confirm it, her mind subconciously reached out for the boy. She felt him. He was safe, and completely content. Leia let her shoulders sag in relief. She was just being paranoid.

_No._

The princess couldn't shake the sudden sense of foreboding that was gnawing away at her. //Something _is_ wrong.// She bit her lip anxiously, and considered calling Luke. He would know what to do. He could make sense of what she was feeling. 

Or there was Han. She could call him. Just for a second. Just to hear his voice. And Bailey's voice. See their faces. Then she would _know_ that they were fine. She would know it with a certainty that she couldn't establish through the vagueness of the force. Han would joke her out of her worry, and Bailey could cheer her with his upbeat chatter.

Yes, the princess decided with a sudden resolution, she would com the falcon. Then she could relax.

A few minutes later, Leia cut the connection in frustration. No answer. She glanced up at the wall chrono. Lunch, she reasoned, they had obviously gone off to lunch. There was absolutely no reason to panic. Yet.

As if to suggest otherwise, another breeze pushed it's way through the window. The panes rattled in protest, as the strong gust caused several dozen sheets to fly off her desk in a desperate flurry.

Leia barely flinched.

Her mind now stubbornly fixed on one thought that kept looping through her mind. She felt an icy grip of fear take hold of her.

_Something is wrong._

****


	29. Chapter Twentynine

The afternoon wore on and the sun rose higher in the sky, it's once brilliant whiteness dulled considerably by the thick haze that rested over the skies of Coruscant. Parker scuffed his boot against the grainy pavement outside the hangar, and appreciated, for once, the mildly warm weather. It was pleasant, and it gave him the perfect cover to be outside. He leaned up casually against the wall. If anyone were to look over at him, all they would see was a tired pilot, soaking up a nice afternoon and enjoying a leisurely break. Nothing wrong there. They probably wouldn't even look twice. This was Coruscant. Where civilians raced along with their heads buried in their own business, and eye contact was ill advised. Too many different types of people and species in a big city like this. You never knew what kind of creeps you were going to run into. 

Parker spat on the pavement with disdain. Like that Captain Solo guy. He looked like a nice person. He certainly acted like one--at least in public, but thanks to his new employer, the pilot knew otherwise. He was a real scum, that Solo. Atleast to hear Simon tell it. So, it was with no great hardship that Parker accepted the handful of credits to keep tabs on the Millennium Falcon and it's inhabitants. No, once Simon had painted the whole picture, Parker had no trouble with it at all. He had taken the job gladly.

The pilot scanned the hordes of pedestrians again. This time, his eyes caught on the sight of Solo's wookiee friend. His large size caused him to tower over the rest of the civilians, and even at this distance, Parker had no trouble picking him out at once. He was walking at a brisk pace, right in the pilot's direction. Parker could only assume that Solo was with him, but the child was definitely there. He could see him now, riding along on the wookiee's shoulders. 

Parker watched as the three of them gradually approached. The child bobbed along with the wookiee's gait, and occassionally patted his furry head to point out something in a passing window. They looked like a close-knit group, and that troubled the pilot. Something didn't quite mesh.

He straightened against the wall as the trio came within ear shot, careful to avoid eye contact. They were close enough now that Parker was able to pick up snippets of their conversation as they drew nearer.

"...I really don't think it has anything to do with the motivator." The smuggler was arguing, "if it did, we would've noticed it by now." The wookiee roared something in protest, and Solo shook his head, "Chewie, I'm telling ya, that's too easy. Now, if you wanna waste another afternoon ripping it apart, then be my guest..."

They were right up next to the pilot at this point, and Parker kept his eyes focused on the ground. He couldn't afford to draw their attention now.

Chewie apparently then said something disagreeable, because suddenly the smuggler stopped right before the entrance, and threw his hands up in frustration. He turned on the wookiee, "and you're gonna listen to _Threepio?_ Over me?" He turned incredulously up to the boy, as if searching for back up. "Do you believe this?" Before the child could even reply, Chewie grumbled another retort that caused Solo to snort in obvious annoyance, "a 'better track record'...gimme a break...."

Bailey, who had been quietly watching the exchange, suddenly patted the wookiee's head impatiently. "Hey, I got an idea," he announced with enthusiasm, "maybe we should check the _engine!_" He then beamed proudly, as if waiting to be congratulated for his brilliant insight.

Solo's expression softened and he chuckled. The wookiee reached up to lift the boy off his shoulders. [The engine, huh?] He flipped the boy to the ground and ruffled his hair affectionately. [Good idea. We better get on it.] 

Bailey grinned happily up at the wookiee, pleased with his response. Then, suddenly, he turned his gaze to the pilot against the wall. Parker felt his body stiffen as the boy's eyes met his, and the pilot's cheeks reddened with an irrational flash of fear. The child's stare unnerved him. But then the boy broke into a smile and gave Parker a tentative wave. He had recognized him from the hangar. 

_Stupid!_

Parker quickly averted his gaze, pretending not to notice the boy's friendly gesture. He was frustrated at allowing himself to be caught staring like that. He scanned the ground frantically, his ears burning as he felt the smuggler turn to look at him.

Parker felt his body stiffen, and his breath caught in his throat. He could feel Solo's eyes on him. Sizing him up. Perhaps trying to place him. Parker cleared his throat, the moment seeming to stretch out forever. 

"Hey."

Parker's head snapped up at the sound of the smuggler's voice. His heart was pounding in his ears. "What?" He blurted, almost too quickly. The pilot mentally winced. He sounded defensive. 

_Don't blow it!!_

Parker's mind reeled with Solo's alleged body count. Simon had told him how Han Solo had put the drop on a number of Imperials, bounty hunters, and even the occasional person who happened to look at him wrong. Parker swallowed. _Oh, gods...._ The smuggler was probably going to blast him right now on the spot. 

"You called Parker?"

The pilot eyed the blaster hanging at Solo's hip, and mentally debated whether it was worth lying or not. Finally, he gave a short nod.

The smuggler surprised him by smiling. "I thought so. You got a nice ship."

Parker felt taken aback. This is not what he had been expecting at all. "Uh, thank you."

"What hyperspeed do you make with that? Point-five?"

Parker wiped a sweaty palm against the leg of his pants, still not fully convinced that the smuggler wasn't about to put a hole in him. For all he knew, Solo liked to make conversation with his victims before smoking them. "Uh, no. More like p-point-four."

"Point-four?" The smuggler nodded, seeming to digest this. Parker could've sworn the man had to stifle a quick smirk, "not bad."

"Yeah."

"Ours makes point-five," the child boasted, and he grinned proudly at the pilot. "That's faster."

Solo smiled wryly, "well, actually, ours makes about _zero_ at the moment."

Behind them, the wookiee let out an exasperated growl, and the smuggler acknowledged the comment with a scowl. "Yeah, yeah, I know...." Solo flashed his friend a look of irritation, then turned back to the pilot at the wall. "Ah, well. We got a lot of repairs, so we'll see ya around."

Parker nodded, and finally allowed the relief to sweep over him. He was going to get out of this just fine. He turned to give a final nod to the boy, and was surprised to find the child still gaping up at him, his face twisted in a thoughtful expression. Why this made Parker nervous, he did not know, but he tried to mask his discomfort with a shaky smile. "See ya, kid." His smile broadened slightly. _And sooner than you think...._

The child's eyes seemed to widen slightly, and Parker felt his breath catch. He was being ridiculous, but it was almost as if..._You can't hear me, can you kid?_ Immediately upon thinking those thoughts, Parker mentally kicked himself for being paranoid. He was just being jumpy. He glanced back at the boy as if to confirm this, and was relieved to see the child's expression was decidedly impassive. The kid couldn't hear a thing. He _was_ becoming unglued. _Now, if he would only stop staring at me...._

As if to purposely break the spell, Han lightly nudged the boy in the back. "All right, kiddo. We better not let any more of the afternoon get away, if we're going to drop by that zoo later."

This immediately snapped the child back to full alertness, and he turned to his dad excitedly, the man at the wall instantly forgotten. "Know what Eriq Noonan told me," he chirped happily, reaching for Han's hand. "He said that if you touch a rancor without gloves, your hand will get all blown up and red for a week! Is that true?"

Han chuckled softly, "no."

The child's face fell. "Oh." He seemed almost disapointed by the news. "Can I try it anyways?"

[Bailey,] Chewie explained, as the three of them made their way through the hangar's entrance, [you try and touch a rancor at the zoo, and you might end up with no hand at all....] 

And then they were gone.

Parker stifled a curse and scuffed his boot at the ground in annoyance. He had been really careless. Stupid even.

_And what the hell was with that kid??_

The pilot blew out an unsteady breath, and tried to calm his frayed nerves. It was all right. No one suspected anything. Things could still proceed as planned. 

Parker mentally shook it off. No big deal. He would just go back inside, contact Malcolm, and tell him it was time. 

****

Leia strummed her fingers impatiently against her desk, her mind still restless and edgy. She should try the Falcon again. The princess threw a quick glance at the wall chrono and sucked in an impatient breath. She had tried calling the ship barely two minutes ago. This was getting ridiculous. She should just go. 

But how would that look? If she showed up at the Falcon in the middle of the day, out of breath and nervous, Han might think she didn't trust him. And how would she explain it? She didn't know if she _could_ explain it--even to herself.

Leia bit her lip, the frantic fluttering in her stomach still working overtime. She eyed the array of papers that still littered her desk, and without thinking, began straightening them into piles. //Five more minutes.// She would give them five more minutes, and then she would just go.

She didn't care how it looked.

****

The green lights above the Hololink continued their urgent, rhythmic blinking; the three inhabitants of the Millennium Falcon oblivious to their presence. They had just returned from an extended lunch break, and Han was eager to get back to work on his ailing ship.

The smuggler grimaced as he took in all the tools that had been half-hazardly abandoned around the main hold. Wires were hanging out of panels in wild dissarray, like some sort of neglected electronic overgrowth. The old ship was a mess, and it was going to take some serious work to get the falcon functioning properly again. 

"Dad?" Bailey gave Han's arm an impatient tug. "What about a Rancor?" 

Han blew out a tired sigh. He almost didn't know where to begin. From behind him, Chewie seemed to put a voice to his concern with a whuff of resignation. [Look at this place,] the wookiee announced with exasperation, [let me at least fetch the droid to lend a hand.] 

Han felt affronted. "You'll do no such thing," he said, almost accusingly. "I just got used to the peace and quiet around here. The last thing I need is Threepio's incessant babbling ruining a perfectly good afternoon."

[The afternoon would be even better if we got the falcon running again.] 

Han had to suppress the urge to roll his eyes. From below, Bailey gave his arm another impatient pull. "Can you beat up a Rancor?"

Han looked down at the boy, barely registering the question. "What? Oh, yeah, sure."

Chewie gave a derisive snort. [Uh, huh.... ] The wookiee shook his head in amusement as he made his way towards the cockpit.

Bailey seemed barely suprised. "Without any weapons?"

Han shot an exasperated glare at his friend's disapearing form, missing his son's question. He straightened himself for the task ahead. "All right," he said, sliding into position within the engine pit. He motioned towards the tool box. "Slide that over here, will ya?"

The boy nodded, but he wasn't ready to be sidetracked. "But without any weapons, Dad?" He pushed the tools towards Han. "Because that would be really hard."

Han gave an absent nod of agreement, and began to sort through the toolbox with one hand. "Hey, Chewie," he called towards the open cockpit, "what'd you do with the laser torch?"

[*I* didn't do anything with it,] came his muffled reply.

"Well, that's pretty amazing then, since you were the last one to use it." The smuggler shook his head and waited for a smart retort from his friend, but one never came. Another moment passed. "Chewie?" Han turned to Bailey with a questioning expression, as if the boy could explain the sudden silence. 

Bailey just grinned at him. "Don't worry, Dad. We're gonna get this bucket of bolts working in no time."

Han gave the boy a look, his mouth curling up into a faint smile. "Right."

Bailey sprawled himself out on the floor just above the smuggler's head and propped his head in his hands. He began to watch patiently as his father worked diligently at adjusting and re-adjusting different parts of the stubborn ship. Han frequently pointed out what he was doing to the boy, and occassionally asked the child to pass him another needed tool. The two of them worked easily like that for the next several minutes.

"Dad?" Bailey finally asked, breaking the companionable silence.

Han stole a glance at the boy and then returned to the stubborn intake valve. "Yeah?"

"How long are we going to stay here?"

"You mean in the falcon?"

"Yeah."

Han looked up at the child. "Why? I thought you liked it here."

"I do," Bailey insisted, "but I was just wondering...." The boy shrugged his shoulders, unsure how to express himself. "I mean, are we staying here forever?"

"No, not forever." He flashed the boy a comforting smile. "Don't worry."

Bailey seemed to digest this for a moment, his lips puckering thoughtfully. "So," he finally replied, "does that mean we get to go home soon?"

"Well...." the smuggler hedged, "it's not that simple."

"Because Momma's married to Simon?"

Han couldn't meet his eyes, the child's line of questioning suddenly making him uncomfortable. "Yeah," he finally mumbled, "that's part of it."

"Can't they just get unmarried?" 

"Well...." Han cleared his throat, suddenly eager to change the subject. "Uh, pass me that tool right there, won't you?" He asked, motioning to the one resting at the boy's elbow.

Bailey handed it to him, his inquisitive expression never leaving his face. As the smuggler turned his attention back to his repairs, he could feel the boy studying him, an unspoken question on his lips. Finally, Bailey asked, "are you going to marry Momma?"

Han looked at the boy with a start, he could feel his face redden. The smuggler let out a nervous chuckle, "what?" 

Bailey sniffed, his gaze unwavering. "You love her, don't you?"

"Yeah, of course I do."

"Well, when you love somone, doesn't that mean you should marry them?"

"Sometimes it means that, yeah." Han directed his attention toward the ship with a newfound urgency, suddenly grateful that Chewbacca was out of earshot. He realized the boy was still waiting for more of an answer, and cleared his throat awkwardly. "But, uh, you know, these things can't be rushed...."

"Why not?" Bailey was genuinely curious.

Han finally dared to look at the boy again. "Why not?" He asked with an incredulous chuckle. "I dunno, you tell me." He nipped the child playfully in the nose, eager to redirect the conversation. "What about you, kiddo? When are _you_ getting married, huh?"

Bailey shrank away from the smuggler's hand with a whoop. "I'm six!" He wrinkled up his nose, "besides, girls are kinda gross."

"Gross, eh?" 

"Yeah," Bailey made a face. "Blecch!"

Han shook his head in knowing amusement, "well, one day you'll feel differently. Trust me."

The boy seemed skeptical, but he just shrugged and asked, "Dad?" 

Han drew in a breath, stealing himself for what he assumed would be another round of questions regarding his future with Leia. The boy's inquiry was beginning to feel a bit like how he imagined it would have been to face the princess' father, Bail Organa. It was as if the child was dutifully filling in for his grandfather in order to press the smuggler about his _intentions_. 

But Bailey had apparently moved on, because he surprised his father by completely changing gears. "If you can beat up a rancor," he continued thoughtfully, "then you could also beat up any bad people, right?"

Han gave the boy a curious look. "What?"

"I mean, if you can beat up things like rancors and wampas, then the bad people would be easy." The boy raised his brow imploringly, "wouldn't they?"

The smuggler studied Bailey quietly for a moment, searching for a clue in the boy's expression as to where this new topic had come from. "What bad people?" He finally asked.

Bailey threw a quick, cautious glance around the falcon before answering. "_The_ bad people," he replied in an urgent whisper. He leaned his face closer to his father. "_You know_."

Han was at a loss. He didn't know. "Bailey, I--" The smuggler paused for a moment, and decided to choose his words carefully. He knew this was probably normal childhood fears, but still, he found the boy's concern a bit unsettling. "Listen," he said, "no bad people are going to get you." He promised, "Me and your mom and Uncle Chewie would never let that happen."

Bailey nodded thoughtfully, as he let that sink in. Then he smiled, clearly satisfied with the smuggler's response. "Yeah," he said, his confidence returned. "I thought so."

Han grinned tentatively. "Good," he hoped he sounded convincing. The smuggler cleared his throat, and attempted to redirect the child's attention. "Now, how 'bout we get back to this, okay?" He motioned to the innards of the flailing ship.

Bailey's mouth turned up into another smile. "Okay," he replied, and his legs kicked excitedly from behind his head. "Hey, Dad," he said, his face suddenly brightening. "Do you think they'll have taun-taun rides at the zoo?"

Han shrugged his shoulders, inwardly marveling at the speed in which the child seemed to leap from topic to topic. It was a wonder anyone could even keep up with the boy half the time. The smuggler was about to make a comment on as much, but his thought was interrupted by the sudden appearance of Chewbacca walking briskly from around the corner. The missing laser torch was in his hand. [Han,] he said, dropping the tool at his feet, [You better call the princess. She's been trying to contact us.] 

Han's brow rose in concern. "Leia? What did she want?"

[I'm not sure, but she left several messages on the hololink.] 

"Several?" The smuggler was getting nervous now. He propped himself up onto the edge of the engine pit. "How many did she leave?"

[Nine.] 

"_Nine?_" They hadn't even been gone that long.

Bailey bounced up as if on a spring. "Momma!" He shouted with enthusiasm, "I wanna talk to her too!"

Han got to his feet and put a restraining hand on the boy's shoulder. "Later," he said, curbing the urgency in his voice. "Stay here with Uncle Chewie."

"But I wanna push the buttons," he replied, his tone taking on a slight whine. "I know how."

"You can push the buttons next time." Han was in no mood for an argument. He shot Chewie a pleading look to keep the cbild busy, and headed off toward the cockpit. 

"Be sure to tell her about the zoo!" Bailey yelled from behind him, and it was the last thing the smuggler heard before he sealed the door shut. 

Once alone in the silence of the cockpit, Han didn't know what to think. He eyed the blinking lights with a mounting dread, Luke's ominous warning from a week earlier suddenly at the forefront of his mind. He had almost forgotten about that conversation, but now it was flashing itself over and over again through his brain, as if being played in fast motion. 

He attempted to shake it off. "This paranoia is getting out of hand, Solo." He grumbled crossly to himself, and quickly dialed in the connection to Leia's office. He was jumping to conclusions. It might be nothing. Heck, it might even be _good_ news. 

The link on the other end buzzed for several long moments. Han could feel his newfound reasoning rapidly thinning, when the static finally dissolved to reveal an agitated princess looking back at him.

"Han?" She was out of breath. "Thank the gods, you finally called. I was just on my way out the door." 

Han forced a casual grin, hoping to mask his mounting concern. "Aw, I miss you too, but nine messages, Princess?" His smile broadened slightly, "That's a bit excessive, even for you."

Leia seemed not to hear him. "Where's Bailey?" She asked urgently, her eyes eagerly searching over his shoulder. "Is everything all right?"

"Hey," the smuggler replied, holding up a soothing hand, "everyone's fine. We were just out grabbing a bite to eat. That's all."

Leia was silent for a moment, her expression relaxing as she appeared to digest this. "Really?" She finally asked. "Are you sure? Let me talk to Bailey."

"Aw, come on, sweetheart. He's _fine_." Han shook his head with light exasperation. "It's babysitting, not brain surgery. Don't you think I can handle a six year old?"

"No, I know," she admitted, "but all afternoon I've just...." Her voice faltered, and her gaze strayed off screen for a moment. She looked back at Han with a start, her eyes widening. "You're sure everything's all right?"

"Absolutely," the smuggler replied confidentally. "Here, fine, I'll prove it to you." Han reached back to open the seal on the cockpit. "Hey, Bailey," he called into the main hold. "Come up here and say 'hi' to your mom."

Han gave the princess a reassuring smile as the boy padded excitedly towards the cockpit. "Okay, so I _might_ have filled him up with a bit too much sugar..." he conceded sheepishly, "but otherwise-"

"--Grrrrr!" Bailey growled as he bounded through the door. "I'm a rancor!" 

"Whoa,-hey!" Han hooked an arm around the charging boy to stop him from crashing into the falcon's controls. "Hey," he said affectionately, pulling the child onto his lap. "Remember, no rancor's a match for me."

Bailey giggled, his feet kicking in feeble protest. "But my teeth are very sharp," he insisted. "Sharper than most."

"I'm sure they are," Han said, straightening the boy in his lap. "Now, say 'hi' to your mom."

Bailey's face lit up as he noticed Leia on the hololink. "Hey, Momma," he greeted, enthusiastically. "We're going to the zoo later."

The princess smiled warmly from the screen. "Wow, really? How exciting." Her eyes combed over every inch of the child, as if rapidly taking a mental inventory of his health. "Are you having a nice afternoon?"

"Uh-huh."

Han poked the boy lightly in the ribs. "Hold up your hands." Bailey gave his father a strange look, but then did as he was told. "See that, sweetheart?" Han teased, waving one of the child's splayed out hands at her. "He's still got all his fingers."

The princess smiled, inspite of herself. "Very funny."

"Now the feet, Bailey."

Leia rolled her eyes. "All right, Han--I get it."

Bailey's expression became mildly panicked. "But why wouldn't I have all my fingers?"

Leia shot Han an exasperated look. "No reason. He's just teasing."

"Oh."

The princess turned back to her son. "How are you, sweetie? You doing okay?"

Bailey nodded and then announced again, "I'm a rancor!" This time he baried his teeth for the benefit of his mother. "Grrrrr!"

"Oh, my," Leia gasped in mock horror, "how scary! What happened to my son?"

The child curled his hands up into claws, his mouth twisting into his best imitation of a frightening snarl. "Grrrr--I ate him!"

"Oh, no!"

Han chuckled and gently pushed the boy from his lap. "Well, I bet you're still hungry." He gave Leia a wicked smile. "Now, go attack Uncle Chewie--he'll love it." He gave the boy a light pat on the bottom to urge him on.

"Grrr--okay!" Bailey made as if to sprint off, but stopped abruptly at the doorway. "Wait, one more thing," he said, dropping the character of the rancor for a moment. He climbed back on the smuggler's lap and leaned toward the hololink. Leia watched as the boy's face suddenly filled up her screen, the holo slightly distorted at his quick movements. He grinned widely at her. "Just wanted to tell you to come home soon, okay, Momma?"

The princess returned his smile."I will, don't worry."

"And also," he added as an afterthought, "tell Daddy I can press the buttons on the comlink, because I don't think he knows."

"I'll remind him." Leia studied the boy for another long moment, suddenly overwhelmed with an inexplicable urge to reach through the holofield and grab hold of him. Her throat tightened and the nervous flutter in her stomach returned. Bailey grinned back at her, oblivious to her turmoil. Leia forced a brave smile. "I love you, Bailey boy."

"Love you, too." His response was almost a reflex, as he was already climbing off of Han's lap. Bailey gave her another quick wave before disapearing from the field altogether. "Bye, Momma!" she could hear him call as he sprinted from the cockpit.

Leia swallowed. _No, don't go...._

The princess straightened in her seat Her fists were now clenched nervously in her lap. She didn't think she could sit here anymore. She wanted to go home. Her apprehension must have been obvious, because when she looked up again, Han was eyeing her with curiousity. "What's wrong?" He asked, his brow knitted in concern. 

"I-...I don't know," she admitted. _Something's wrong, something's wrong, something's wrong..._ "I've just had--I don't know--a strange feeling all day."

"What, like woman's intuition or something?"

Leia smiled faintly, her expression clouding over for a moment. "Or something." She looked up at him with a start, her eyes widening in concern. "What about you, Han?"

"What about me?"

"How are you? Are you okay?" The urgency in her tone suggested she wasn't making idle conversation. "You haven't noticed anything strange, have you?"

"Leia," he said, his voice relaxed. "I'm fine." His mouth curled up into a small grin, and there was a knowing shine in his eye. "Today of all days? I'm better than fine."

The princess awarded his remark with a faint quirk of the mouth. "I still think I should come home early. I know I have a lot of work to do here but I can't stay." She shook her head and her resolve strengthened, "it just wouldn't feel right."

"Well, if you feel you want to come back now, then just come back now." Han leaned back in his seat and his grin broadened. "I certainly wouldn't mind seeing you."

Leia's lips curved into a slight smile, but then her expression sobered. "Han, I...." She faltered for a moment, the right words seeming to fail her for once. Han strummed a finger lightlty against his shoulder rest, seemingly untroubled and patiently waiting for her to finish her thought. Leia swallowed. "Just--be careful."

"Me?" Han's mouth curved up into a half smile. "Always."

********

A few minutes later, Han palmed the cockpit open, finally ready to once again resume his repairs. His thoughts reeled with the conversation he had just finished with Leia. It had been a bit strange, and it slowly dawned on the smuggler that _everything_ had been a bit strange since he got back. And he didn't just mean all the obvious stuff that went along with being frozen in carbonite for seven years. There was something else. Something he couldn't quite put his finger on. Like he was missing a crucial piece to a bigger picture. 

_ It's what I saw, it's what the pitcher showed..._ Bailey's voice echoed in his head. //Yeah, what did the kid mean by that, anyway?// And now the boy was going on about 'bad people' and Leia was having strange feelings.

_Feelings._

An image of Luke Skywalker immediately flashed through his mind, and Han stopped in his tracks. He had no idea where that connection had come from. Or if there even was one. But suddenly the smuggler felt like he was on the brink of understanding something. Something that was just starting to take focus---

"Dad?" It was an urgent whisper.

Han turned with a start, his gaze suddenly falling on the child sitting against the wall. "Bailey?" The boy looked up at him wide-eyed, his legs curled up under his chin. He had been sitting so quiet and so still, that Han had totally missed noticing him there. "What are you doing?" He looked toward the main hold. "Where's Chewie?"

"He went to get Threepio." Bailey's voice was an urgent hush. "But I don't think we should go back in there."

Han shot an annoyed glance toward the room, completely missing the child's other statement. "He did what?"

"No, Dad. Wait." Bailey grabbed at his father's leg, his whole body suddenly wrapping itself around the smuggler's calf. "Don't go back in there."

"What? Why not?" Han made a half-hearted attempt to shake his leg free from the boy's grasp, but Bailey just tightened his hold. "Hey, what's gotten into you?"

The boy looked up at him imploringly, his gaze becoming wide and desperate. "Just please don't go in there." There was now a tremble in his voice. "_Please_, Daddy."

The smuggler opened up his mouth to protest, but the words never left this throat. Suddenly there was the clanging sound of footfalls climbing the boarding ramp. Han froze, and he listened as they echoed up to the main entrance of the ship and then came to a scuffled halt. 

Someone was in the falcon. 

The smuggler swallowed. He felt the grip on his leg tighten. Han's right hand instinctively went to his blaster. His fingers twitched slightly as they hovered expectantly above the handle, poised for action.

The footsteps were quiet now. The faceless intruder was also keeping still. Most likely, cocking an ear, trying to listen for Han. 

_But who was it???_

The smuggler didn't dare move. Suddenly, he was conscious of everything around him. The low whirring hum of the falcon's main computer. The beads of persperation taking form on his brow. The short nervous breaths of a child trying to control his panic. //Bailey.// Han stole a quck glance at the boy. He really needed his son to let go of his leg if he was going to have any chance against whoever was out there.

_But who _was_ out there?_

Bailey whimpered soundlessly, his face pressed against the side of Han's knee. His hold on the smuggler now resembled a death grip. "Don't go in there," came his hushed plea. "Don't go."

_Why not? What's there to be so scared of?_

But Han knew, and the answer came to him before he could stop it.

_The Bad People._

******


	30. Chapter Thirty

If Malcolm held his breath long enough, and stood absolutely still, he was almost convinced he could make out exactly where Captain Solo was hiding. If he just strained his ears enough, and _listened_, he could almost hear him trying to be quiet. Almost.

The sandtrader's eyes darted nervously around the mainhold of the Millennium Falcon. Every tick of the computers made his heart stop, every creak of the ship caused his breath to catch. The hand with the blaster trembled lightly with fear, the weapon suddenly feeling impossibly heavy in his grip. 

_Just do it. Pick a place. The cabin or the cockpit. Do it. Shoot him, grab the kid, and go....._

Malcolm swallowed, frozen in indecision. Cabin or the cockpit...Cabin or the cockpit...A wrong choice could prove deadly. The smuggler obviously knew he was here. It was way too quiet in here to suggest otherwise. He needed to decide fast. Solo wasn't going to sit in hiding for long, and the wookiee would be back at any moment.

But where was he? The cabin or the cockpit, the cabin or the--

Malcolm's head jerked toward the ship corrider with a start. Something had gotten his attention and made his hackles rise, but he didn't know consciously what it was. A small thud or a panicked gasp, perhaps. The man was no longer sure, but it didn't matter. He let out a small breath of relief, and allowed himself a small smile. His concentration had apparently paid off. He suddenly knew where the smuggler and child were hiding.

***

Han Solo dropped to his haunches, his mind reeling. His senses were on high alert. He gripped the child firmly by the shoulder, and pressed his mouth up to his ear. "Listen to me," he said sternly, his voice barely audible, even to the boy. "I want you to go into the cockpit and seal the door behind you. And don't open it again until I say so, understand?"

Bailey made as if to shake his head mutely, and Han's grip tightened in frustration. "Just do it," he hissed angerly.

"But Dad--"

"Bailey, _now._" 

The boy nodded numbly, his grip on the smuggler's leg slowly loosening. The child turned to crawl towards the cockpit, but then he paused to give his father one last imploring look. Bailey's chin quaked slightly, and he whispered, "just don't let anything happen, okay?"

Han's heart clenched at the child's terrified expression, but tried to mask it with his best reassuring smile. He wanted to tell his son not to worry, that everything would be fine, but there was no time. He shot a nervous glance over his shoulder, and turned back toward the boy. "It's okay," he mouthed, making a shoo-ing motion with his hand, "now go!"

Bailey nodded mutely, and turned back around. When the smuggler was satisfied that he was really headed for the cockpit, he turned his attention back towards the source of the footsteps in the other room. Han took a moment to steady his jangled nerves, blowing out barely a whisper of a breath. The ship was quiet.

*Too* quiet.

The smuggler's hand once again reached for his blaster, and this time he cautiously removed it from it's holster. Han tensed as he raised the gun to his face, careful not to make a noise. There still wasn't any sound coming from the main hold. But that only served to make the pilot even more anxious. His grip tightened on the handle in anticipation, and Han immediately tried to squelch the nervous feeling that was building up within his gut. 

With a final steadying breath, the smuggler squared his shoulders, and dared to peek around the corner.

****

Leia was standing in the back of the turbolift when the sharp feeling of apprehension returned. It had eased a bit in the wake of her conversation with Han and Bailey, she had even begun to feel pretty normal again. But somewhere between the twenty-seventh and twenty-sixth level, that cold stab of panic had decided to make a return visit. 

And this time it was almost paralyzing in it's ferocity. The princess threw an arm up against the wall to brace herself, vaguely aware of the alarmed glances that earned from the people around her. But she didn't care. The fear was overwhelming, and had caught her off guard. Without even thinking, she mentally called out to her brother.[i] Luke![/i] It was almost like a reflex. _Luke!_ Her brother would know how to handle this. He would make sense of it for her. 

And then, as suddenly as it had come, it was gone again. Like a violent wave finally pulling away from the shore, the feeling abated. 

Leia's gaze flew above the doors of the turbolift, suddenly aware of how painfully slow they seemed to be moving. _Nineteen........eighteeen........_ It was suddenly enough to make her want to crawl out of her skin. Her gaze darted to the other people that stood around her, trying to gage whether they noticed how long their descent seemed to be taking. Beside the idle cough from one of the humans, everyone seemed impassive. _Fifteen.....fourteen....._She had never known a more sluggish moving turbolift in her life. It was only after another passenger leaned over and asked if she was all right, that she became aware that she had been quietly counting the floors out loud. 

Leia turned to the Rodian beside her and tried to force a smile. "I'm fine, thank you." She replied. 

The creature looked skeptical, but said nothing.

"Really," she assured him, suddenly aware that she was still bracing herself against the wall. She dropped her arm hastily and offered him another brave smile. 

The Rodian gave her a sympathetic grin, "you know, I've always hated riding in these things myself."

The princess nodded politely, unable to stop her gaze from immediately returning to the spot above the doors. She watched the numbers slowly count down, her throat seeming to tighten with every passing level.

_Four......Three......two......_

****

The first shot was wide. It blazed just above Han Solo's right shoulder, and made a smoldering hole in the far wall of the main corrider. But it was still close enough to cause the smuggler to jump back with a start, his heart racing. Han had literally felt the heat of the blast as it passed a mere inches from his skull. That was close enough to scare even him.

The smuggler pressed himself back against the wall, his adrenaline already coursing through his veins. He tried to even out his breathing, maintain control, but an unfamilar panic was already welling up within him. Han cursed silently to himself. He was already trapped. If he dared to get another look at where his attacker was standing, he risked being hit. And maybe the next shot would be fatal. But he couldn't just stand here. He *had* to know where the man was firing from. 

The smuggler tried to rack his brain for a plan, but before he could even string a coherent thought together, another shot burst forth. This one hit a control panel, a few inches closer to where he stood. The panel hissed and smoked, and it was still angerly spitting out sparks, when yet another blast rang out. This one landing closer to where the first shot was fired. 

The smell of burning instantly singed his nostrils. Han stole a glance at the matching pair of smoking blast points, and fleetingly noted that whoever was in the _falcon_ was obviously edgy, nervous--and completely unprofessional. This thought momentarily comforted the smuggler. The guy was most definitely a novice, and someone he knew he had a chance against. 

"Captain Solo," came a voice, loud in the confines of the ship. "Let's not make this harder. Come out now and I won't have to kill you."

Han almost laughed at the comment, as if the smuggler was some sort of idiot. He'd heard that line a hundred times before, and never fell for it once. "How 'bout you drop your weapon, kick it over to me, and then _I_ won't have to kill _you_."

The reply was another shot. This one causing another control panel to go up in a flurry of sparks. "I mean it," said the voice above the crackling of fried wiring, "This is not a game."

Han snorted. "You mean this isn't fun for you?" But even as he said it, his mind was racing. The voice, even with his heart pounding distractingly in his ears, sounded terribly familar. 

"Please," the intruder called again, "I have orders to kill you, but it doesn't have to be that way." There was no mistaking the nervous timbre in his voice. "Just cooperate, Captain Solo."

And suddenly it clicked into place. The smuggler blew out a disbelieving breath. "Malcolm?"

There was a moment of stunned silence. Han knew he had caught the intruder off guard, and without another thought, the smuggler swung around the corner and fired off a shot.

The blast caught Malcolm squarely in the shoulder, and the sandtrader let out a startled yelp as he stumbled back a few steps. He grabbed at his right shoulder painfully, his mouth sputtering with frustrated obscenities. 

Han took advantage of the moment by firing another shot at the man's legs.

"Oh, gods!" The sandtrader fell back on the floor with a thud, as he now grabbed at the fresh wound on his right knee. "Stop it! Just stop! Oh, gods...!" 

Han was shaking now. He walked over to Malcolm, fighting to get control over his breathing. He kicked the man's now discarded weapon out of the way, as he gazed down at the fallen sandtrader. The smuggler had, regretfully, shot plenty of people in his time. In his line of work, it was inevitable. And then there was The Rebellion, which had a body count all it's own. But even through all that, Han had never quite gotten used to it. When it came to self-preservation, the smuggler could shoot without hesitation, but it didn't mean he enjoyed it. The experience had always left him a little shook up. 

Malcolm let out another painful groan. "Dammit, Solo," he grumbled, "whatcha do that for?" The sandtrader drew in an anguished hiss. "Blast it, I wasn't actually going to _hit_ you. What's your problem??"

"What--?" Han shook his head incredulously, fighting to keep his temper in check. The smuggler reached down and pulled the sandtrader from scruff of his collar, until the man was sitting up on the floor."I could just as easily put a shot through your other knee, Malcolm, unless you tell me what's going on here."

The older man shook his head feebly. "Nothing, I....."

"_Nothing?!_" Han released the man's collar in frustration. Malcolm's eyes widened in horror as he watched the smuggler lift his blaster and press the cold barrel against the older man's cheek. "Don't you dare play stupid with me. Start answering some questions, buddy, or I swear I'll go completely crazy in a moment."

Malcolm didn't doubt it. He watched as Solo made a show of pulling the weapon away from his face and slowly took aim at his other leg. The older man's mouth went dry with terrified anticipation. "Listen, you don't have to do that, I-"

But the Malcolm's pitiful plea was interrupted by the sound of another set of footfalls rapidly approaching up the boarding ramp. Han looked up with a start, expecting to see the tall form of his best friend taking shape in the entranceway. 

But the figure at the door wasn't Chewbacca. 

The smuggler barely even had time to register the sight of the young man aiming a blaster in his direction, before he felt the sudden blast of explosive pain erupt on his left side. Han stumbled backwards with a startled grunt, his trigger finger instinctively pulling off a few shots, all of which were way wide of their target. 

Parker flinched nervously as the blasts flew past him, and without even thinking, shot the smuggler again. This time grazing the pilot's right shoulder, causing Han to drop his blaster in surprise. Parker then turned towards the wide-eyed Malcolm, still sprawled out on the floor. "What the hell's taking you so long? Where's the kid??" 

Malcolm shook his head dumbly, his attention instantly turning towards the injured smuggler. Han was leaning against the holochess table, his eyes glazed over in pain. His left hand gripped his injured side, and the sandtrader could make out the dark stain of blood that was just beginning to take shape between the pilot's fingers. Han seemed eerily complacent, as if the smuggler were trying to catch his bearings. Malcolm's gaze darted back towards the young pilot. "Try the cockpit," he finally said. 

Han's head jerked up, his mind suddenly brought back to full alertness as the last words of the young pilot sank in. Suddenly it all made sense. They weren't here for him. They weren't here for him at all. The realization made his blood run cold. And as Parker went to take a step towards the cockpit, Han didn't even have to think. He lunged at the young man full force, managing to knock the pilot on his back. 

Parker felt the breath knock out of him as he hit the hard floor of the Millennium Falcon, his blaster skidding away from him. And suddenly the smuggler was on top of him. Parker tried feebily to block off the violent blows, but it was a pointless effort. Even injured, the man was a much stronger opponent than him. The young pilot flinched as a blow landed upside his head, causing his thoughts to become even more scrambled and incoherent. And then suddenly Solo's hand was gripping him tightly around the neck. At the abrupt pressure on his throat, Parker dared to open an eye, and saw that Han was a mere inch from his face. "You listen to me," the smuggler snarled, his breath hot and ragged with pain, "if you even touch a hair on that boy's head I will _kill_ you. Understand?"

Parker's head nodded tightly, Han's rigid clamp around his neck not allowing much movement. He no longer even caring about the kid hiding away in the cockpit. All the young pilot wanted now was to get out from underneath the weight of the insane smuggler, and far away from the Millennium Falcon. Without warning, Solo released his grip on the young man's neck and grasped him by the shoulders instead, shaking him violently. "I mean it," Han repeated, his breath growing increasingly more shallow. "I'll kill you, and anyone else involved."

"Okay..." the young pilot wheezed pitifully. "Okay...."

Seemingly satisfied for the moment, Han nodded and turned his attention to the injury on his side. He touched at it tentatively, his face grimacing with each fiery jolt of pain that caused to course through his body. Parker took advantage of this momentary distraction to thrust a knee at the smuggler's gaping wound, causing Solo to fall back in sudden agony. The young pilot then scrambled furiously to his feet, not even bothering to spare a glance backwards as he stumbled through the entranceway and raced down the boarding ramp. 

Terrified at the thought of letting the young man escape, Han forced himself to stagger to his feet. He sucked in another angry breath, as the sudden movement provoked a fresh explosion of pain, causing stars to dance before his eyes. Han reached out blindly for something to support him, but all his grappling fingers found was dead air. The smuggler swallowed, the room suddenly seeming to sway before him. He should really go after the young pilot. Stop him. He knew he should. But at that moment, it all seemed too overwhelming. 

_Maybe, if I just catch my breath for a second...._

Han blew out a haggard sigh. _Yeah, I just need a moment and then I'll go..._ The smuggler felt his knees wobble, his legs seeming no longer able to carry his own weight. _Just one more second..._

The room seemed to spin infront of his eyes more rapidly now, and Han was becoming less and less aware of his own surroundings. He didn't even feel it when his legs finally gave away, and he landed on his knees with a thud. "Come on, this is nothing," he whispered harshly to himself. "Only a scratch..." Han lifted a hand to his face, almost struck dumb by the sight of the heavy blood that coated his fingers. He turned to Malcolm, lifting up his hand for the older man's appraisal. "You see this?"

Malcolm watched him through heavy lidded eyes, too preoccupied with his own pain to be much concerned with the smuggler's. "You were the one who had to make things difficult," the sandtrader finally replied. 

Han nodded, a sleepy smirk seeming to take over his face. "Yup," he conceded, before falling slowly on his back. "But at least I won."

Malcolm shook his head wearily. He couldn't pick out any victors in this scenerio. He watched as the smuggler silently gazed up at the ceiling, clearly fighting to keep his eyes open. The older man then turned his head away, and just sat there for a moment. He listened lazily to his own shallow breathing, and to that of the pilot sprawled out on the floor. Solo was clearly more seriously injured than himself. That had to count for something. But he doubted Simon would see it that way. Malcolm scowled to himself as a mental image of the politician came to mind. Not that he particularly cared what Simon thought at this point. Right now, he would settle for just getting out of this situation without jail time. 

Or at they very least, escaping the ship before that wookiee came back.

Malcolm turned his attention back toward the smuggler. "Hey, Solo," he called weakly, his voice raspy. "Maybe we could help eachother out here."

But there was no acknowledgement from the man sprawled out on the floor. Not even a flinch. 

"Captain Solo?"

Still nothing. The only sign that the smuggler was even still alive, was the nearly silent whistle of his labored breathing. 

And then, despite everthing, Malcolm almost had to smile. He was still awake and Han Solo was not. "Well, Captain," he gloated silently, almost like a child, "looks like you haven't won yet."

*******

But Han did not hear him. He had finally succumbed to the black void of unconsciousness. 


	31. Chapter Thirtyone

The cockpit was eerily quiet. The only noise was the light whisper of panicked breathing coming from behind the main pilot seat. That's where the boy remained frozen to the floor, his knees hugged tightly to his chest. He was too frightened to even move.

It had been over a minute since Bailey had last heard the sound of blaster fire coming from the other room. Even less time had passed since he had heard the sound of shuffling, and the muffled shouts of angry voices. But now....nothing. The ship was dead silent. 

And still, his dad had not yet come back for him. 

A soft ticking sounded from somewhere above his head. Coming from one of the pilot controls he was now huddled beneath. It ticked for several seconds, the metallic sound almost comforting with it's rhythm. Then it stopped. And the cockpit was silent again.

Bailey bit down on his bottom lip, trying to ignore the dampness he felt on his cheeks. He didn't want to cry. It was stupid to cry. Babyish. But he was scared, and he couldn't help it. _Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry....he'll be right back, just don't cry...._As much as the child tried to silently reassure himself, he couldn't stop the push of tears from building up behind his eyes. He wished it was this morning again. He wished he was sitting across from his mother, and she was once again lightly scolding him for flicking cereal across the table. Or even better, if it was the night before, when the ship had been filled with light and the boom of several friendly voices. His mom and dad. Uncle Chewie. The four of them all together, and there was not any of this horrible badness in sight. 

Bailey felt a coldness wrap around him, and all at once the darkness of the cockpit pushed the warmth of the memory far away. Now it all seemed so distant. Like another life. The child pressed his face against his knees, as if the sudden pressure might hold back the sob he felt building in his throat. He wanted his mom to be here. He wanted his dad to come back.

But most of all, he wanted this whole ugly scene to be over.

****

The hangar was filled with it's usual buzz of machinary, as pilots and mechanics mulled back and forth, caught up with their own individual tasks. The noise level has reached it's daily peak, and the piercing drone of several drills echoed throughout the expansive warehouse. Pilots and mechanics shouted orders at passing droids. The place was so bustling with activity, that it took a moment before anyone even noticed the young man who had sprinted down the boarding ramp of the _Millennium Falcon._

An older mechanic was the first to see him. He had been looking up from his task for only a moment, gazing into the distance as if to find inspiration for his latest wiring riddle, when the young pilot stumbled into his line of vision. The young man looked disoriented and wild-eyed, barely acknowledging the mechanic as he staggered past. 

The older man put down his tool and turned toward the _Millennium Falcon_ with new curiosity. Something wasn't right. The mechanic glanced around to see if anyone else had noticed the young man fleeing from the spaceship hangar, but if anyone had seen it, very few seemed to care.

The older man sat back for a moment, and considered ignoring it. He really did want to just resume his task and mind his own business, but something stopped him. He remembered how, just this past week, Solo had been so generous, offering out the services of his golden droid to anyone who might need it. And Threepio had certainly come in handy, especially for him. It would be wrong for the mechanic to atleast not check on the smuggler and his crew. Especially after all he had done.

His mind made up, the older man slowly climbed down from the ship he had been working on, and tentatively approached the shadow of the corellian freighter. He took his first step onto the boarding ramp, and called up into the ship, "Captain Solo? Everything all right up there?"

His question was greeted with only silence, and this served only to further unnerve the old mechanic. He took another hesitant step up the ramp, "Captain Solo?"

There was still no response. But suddenly, a single waft of air emerged from the ship, carrying with it the slight stench of burnt wiring and... something else. _Flesh._ It filled the mechanic's lungs, and startled, the older man took a step backwards. 

[Ren?]

The mechanic turned his head and saw a young Sullustan staring up at him, his eyes filling with questions as he took in the older man's paled expression.

[Somethin' wrong?] A small cluster of curious onlookers was beginning to take form behind him. 

Ren shook his head mutely. "I-I dunno..." he finally stuttered, "I think, I think there might be trouble--"

[You want me to call someone?]

The mechanic glanced back at the falcon's entrance, his expression dubious. "I'm not sure..." The incriminating odor seemed to have passed, and the older man was no longer sure if he had imagined it or not. "Maybe not."

Ren stood there another moment. His thoughts wrestling with what he should do. Finally, he took another step towards the entrance, his breath hitched in his throat. A weird taste coated the surface of his tongue, and the older man could suddenly hear the hum of his blood racing past his ears. It's as if his body already knew, as he edged closer to the entrance, that something horrible awaited him around the bend.

The first thing he saw was a boot. It was black, it's scuffed toe pointed towards the ceiling. It was enough to cause Ren to freeze in his tracks for a moment. Then the significance of what he was seeing awakened a fresh alarm inside of him, and he rushed the last few steps into the main hold. 

The older man drew in a sharp breath, the scene before him causing him to stumble a few steps backward. Captain Solo. Sprawled out on the deckplates, his chest moving up and down in an unsteady rhythm. Ever-widening stains of blood marred both his stomach and right shoulder. 

Ren swallowed, apprehension quickly overtaking his entire body. His eyes were suddenly pulled to the left of the Corellian smuggler, where he saw another man, also injured, leaning up against a control panel. The other man was still conscious, and he gazed up at Ren with the glazed look of one barely coherent. The mechanic stood there frozen for a moment. He looked at the injured man questioningly, and it took a moment for him to finally find his voice. "What-what happened? Are you all right??"

The man stared at him blankly for a moment, and Ren fleetingly wondered if he had misread the man's condition; that he was actually dead. But then the man spoke, his voice throaty with exhaustion and pain. "Help me out of here. Please."

"Of course, I mean, but--." Ren threw a startled glance at the smuggler. "But Captain Solo--" 

"Bounty Hunters," the injured man let out a pained hiss, and his face contorted in anguish. "Bounty Hunters. And they could come back." His tone became slightly impatient. "So, please, you gotta help me out of here."

Ren gaped at the man in disbelief. "No, you shouldn't move. You're injured--"

"It'll be worse if I get caught here."

The mechanic shook his head, the words of the injured man sliding right off him. He dropped to his knees by the unconscious Corellian. His eyes frantically assessing the pilot's blaster wounds. "Captain Solo," he said, leaning over the smuggler. "Captain Solo, can you hear me?" He pressed a hand against the smuggler's bleeding middle. The warm reality of the blood caused another surge of panic to race through him. His eyes widened. "Help!" He called frantically over his shoulder, "we need some help up here!!"

He heard the other man struggle to his feet. "Oh, sith..." the man grumbled, attempting to pull himself up with one hand gripping the control panel. 

"Don't move," Ren ordered the injured man, just as the sound of several footfalls could be heard running up the ramp. "Help's here, just _don't move."_

The other man seemed to pay him no mind, and continued on muttering crossly to himself. His body wavered, and fell against the control panel, as he fought to find his footing. He let out a painful gasp. "Blast it...stupid knee...."

Ren stared down at the unconscious smuggler. He was barely aware of the sound of the injured man once again sliding his body to the floor. All he could see was the pasty complexion of the pilot, and all he could feel was the warmth of blood. It now covered his arms past his wrists. The mechanic's mind scrambled as he once again took in the injuries. He was at a loss. He didn't know how to help this man. He fixed ships, not people. They needed a med droid, not a mechanic, for emperor's sake. 

Ren was hardly aware of the people now at his back, until he heard their startled gasps. "My gods...." he heard one of them exclaim. "Look at this.....!"

A female pilot ran over to the injured man, immediately asking what she could do to help. From behind him, Ren heard someone pull out a comlink, calling for aid. The young Sullustan from earlier, dropped to his knees beside the mechanic. [Wow, what the hell happened?] 

Ren shook his head, "I don't know...." Captain Solo was losing a lot of blood, and it unnerved the older man. He turned to the Sullustan suddenly, "here, gimme your jacket."

The Sullustan shrugged it off his shoulders without question, and handed it to the mechanic. Ren balled it up slighty, and pushed it against the more offensive wound on Solo's stomach. "Press down on that!" He ordered, and then over his shoulder he yelled, "someone find the blasted med pack in this place!"

A large blue Duros nodded mutely, and hurried off to find the supplies. "Med personnel should be on the way," the human with the comlink told him briskly. Ren nodded gratefully and turned back to the Sullustan. "Keep pressure on it."

The Sullustan nodded in quick understanding, but his eyes bulged in panic. His breaths came out in sharp gasps. [Gods, Ren,] he said, his voice shaky, [this is that Solo guy, isn't it?] When the mechanic didn't reply, the Sullustan continued, [I mean, it must've been those bounty hunters, right? They say-they say he had a price on his head. Everyone knew about it. I knew about it. It--]

"Nilo," Ren interrupted, his voice deceptively steady. "Just hold the jacket steady, okay?"

The Sullustan shot him a look. [But that's it, isn't it? Bounty hunters....] He turned to the smuggler with renewed sympathy, [...poor bastard.]

"Nilo, listen--" Ren said, but his voice was interrupted by the human standing behind them.

"Is there anyone else on board?" The man asked, his gaze directed down at the old mechanic. 

Ren shrugged helplessly, "I don't know, I haven't--" he turned to the injured man leaning against the control panel. "Anyone else aboard?"

The man had been pleading with the woman pilot about something, and he now turned to Ren, his expression blank. He parted his lips slightly, as if he were about to reply, but then he didn't answer.

"Hey, buddy," the man with the comlink was impatient, "anyone else on board--yes or no?"

The injured man looked up with a start, having not noticed the other man until now. His eyes widened. But Ren didn't know if it was the sudden appearance of this man, or his directness that had startled him. "I...I'm not sure...what you...."

The man with the comlink bit his words out carefully. "If there is someone else still on board," he said evenly, "it is imperative that you tell us. Understand?"

Malcolm nodded mutely, as if he was slowly digesting the man's words. He then grimaced at some unseen pain, and mumbled something to the female crouching next to him.

Ren turned to that woman now. "What was that?"

"A little boy," she replied, "he says there's a little boy in the cockpit."

The man behind Ren wasted no time. "I'll get him," he replied, clipping the comlink to his belt. 

Ren just nodded, already distracted by the Duros who had suddenly returned with an armful of med supplies. "Here," the breathless alien announced, dropping the items on the floor beside him. "That's the best I could do."

"Good," Ren replied, his hands already fumbling through the small pile of med stuff. "How's he look, Nilo?"

[L-l-like crap,] the Sullustan stammered, his voice laced with fear. [Oh, gods...] 

"Hold it together," the mechanic ordered, his steady tone a thin veil for the panic he was also feeling. "Hold it together...." Empty words, but the best he could do.

Ren's hands searched blindly through the medical provisions, unsure of what he was looking for. He had friends who had fought in the Rebellion. He had heard their stories about soldiers wounded in combat, and how it was imperative to stop them from losing too much blood. Keep them from going into shock. But that was all Ren knew. How to actually do these things was a whole other conversation they never had. 

"You think he's going to make it?"

Ren looked up, and was startled to see the man with the comlink still standing over them. He was studying the unconscious Corellian with an almost morbid interest. "I-I don't know...." the mechanic's voice trailed off. Something about the way the man's cold green eyes seemed to comb over the smuggler's body made him stop. The man seemed too detached. Almost clinical. 

Ren immediately turned his attention back to Captain Solo. "I thought you were getting the kid from the cockpit," he finally snapped.

The man with the comlink was silent for a moment, his boots rooted firmly in place. "Of course," he replied smoothly, "I'll get right on that." But he stood there for another beat, seeming to spare the Corellian one last glance, before finally turning and heading toward the cockpit.

Ren's hands continued to fumble frantically through the med supplies. Bandages. Bacta. Ointments. Antiseptic. The mechanic's eyes began to tear over in panic. _What was he even looking for?? _

From beside him, he heard the young Sullustan continue to murmur words of encouragement, his hands faithfully pressed down against the unconscious smuggler's stomach wound. His body rocked slightly with each whispered plea. [Come on now...come on.....]

The mechanic squeezed his eyes shut tightly for a moment. If only he could _think_.

"Try the petrolium jelly."

Ren glanced up and saw the tall Duros leaning over him. "What? Where?"

The Duros gestured to a small packet. "That one. You need to prevent air from entering the--" The alien stopped short. "Oh, wait," he said, and his finger traveled to his mouth thoughtfully. "Maybe you need to clean out the wound first."

Ren's jaw clenched. This was a disaster. If the situation wasn't so grave, it might even be comical. "How the hell do we do that?"

The Duros shrugged. "I don't know. I'm not really familar with the human anatomy."

Ren swore bitterly, and grabbed a large bandage roll off the pile. He tore the plastic seal open with his teeth. "Here," he said, handing it to the alien. "See what you can do about that right shoulder."

"I think the roll needs to be sterilized--"

"Just _do it!_"

The Duros nodded, and reached for the bandages; the mechanic's tone having finally knocked him into complacency. 

Ren spared another glance at the smuggler's face. His skin looked even more sallow and lifeless than before.

_He's already worse._

The mechanic swallowed back a bout nausea. The panelled control lights of the _Millennium Falcon_ seemed to momentarily warp all around him, and there was a sudden buzz in his ears. Across the room, the female pilot continued to speak with the injured man. Ren could see her mouth moving, almost as if in slow motion, but the words he heard did not match the movement of her lips.

[Come on now, come on....]

Ren turned. The Sullustan beside him continued his steady rocking. His wild gaze stubbornly fixed on the wounded Corellian. 

Across from him, the blue domed Duros crouched over Solo's bleeding shoulder, already attending the wound.

Their efforts all seemed futile and almost ridiculous. They didn't know what they were doing. None of them did.

_Good gods,_ Ren realized, the horror of the scene suddenly overwhelming him. _This man is going to die._

****

Bailey could hear the voices of the other people as soon as they had come on board. They were loud and urgent. Scared. Even though he couldn't make out exactly what they said, he could hear that much. The severity of the situation was something that even the thick seal of the cockpit could not muffle completely. 

_If you breathe too loud, they'll hear you...._

Bailey pressed his mouth tightly against his knees, deperately trying to smother any sound that might come out. His body was rigid with tension, and the floor felt cold and unforgiving beneath him. 

The boy could not have been sitting there for more than a few minutes, but it felt like forever. His legs were cramped. His pants were warm and wet. And he could already feel a prickly numbness beginning to creep through his entire body. 

Despite his discomfort, Bailey curled his body up even tighter. He was intent on making himself invisible. 

_Maybe if you don't move, they won't see you...._

He tried to force his thoughts onto another good memory. Last year at the Endor celebration. Sitting on Uncle Chewie's shoulders. Playing cards with his dad. But that just seemed to further remind the boy of where he really was. And that he hadn't actually heard his father's voice through that sealed door in what felt like a long time. Too long. 

Suddenly, there was the sound of approaching foot steps, and Bailey felt his breath hitch in his throat. He listened as the sound of clicking boots drew closer. They continued, right up to the other side of the cockpit door. Then they stopped.

Bailey sat there for a moment; completely wide-eyed, and frozen. He could hear the fiddling of controls. A muffled curse. Someone was trying to get in. 

Bailey swallowed, and felt another rush of warm liquid soak through his pants. His toes clenched instinctively, and he tightened the hold he had around his legs. He clamped his eyes shut.

_He can't come in...he can't come in....he can't come in...._

He heard a familar hiss, and the thick door of the cockpit slid open. The boots now echoed more loudly, as they made their way into the small room. Bailey kept his face buried against his knees. He didn't dare move. He didn't even dare to breathe. 

The boots approached the pilot controls. Bailey peeked an eye open, and watched as they stopped right infront of him. The man was _right there._ If the boy reached out his hand, he would be able to touch the spot right above the polished toe. Bailey imagined him standing over the controls. Looking at them. And for some reason, the thought made him mad.

For a moment, the cockpit was completely still. Neither of them moved. Bailey now fixed his gaze onto the polished boots. His eyes bored into them, as if he could mentally will them not to find him here. 

Outside the cockpit, the sounds of frantic voices could still be heard. A ship computer hummed. 

And then a hushed whisper asked, "you in here, little guy?"

Bailey straightened in his seat, unsure of what he had just heard. The boy sucked in a breath, and he watched as a pair of legs crouched down front of him. He saw bent knees. A pair of hands. 

Then the man peeked his head under, and the boy let out a shuddering gasp of relief. "Simon!" He exclaimed, his eyes wide. 

His stepfather just smiled, and Bailey immediately leaped forward and threw his arms around the man's neck. 

"It's all right, little man," Simon said softly, wrapping his arms comfortingly around the shaking child. "Everything's going to be okay," he murmured. "I've got you now."

**to be continued....


End file.
